


Asano Comes To Play (Continued)

by jessng



Category: Assassination Classroom
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Author loves to chat in the Comments, Canonical Child Abuse, Family Issues, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, Miscommunication, Multi, Pining, Single Parents, Unrequited Crush, but i mean i'll keep the overall tone of the anime so, can't be that dark right, i'm a little too fond of angst, it does get pretty heavy so uh be warned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-17 15:19:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 35,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9331193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessng/pseuds/jessng
Summary: Taken up after thornsword's fic of the same name because honestly, this idea needs a spin-off series about it. I have had permission from the original author to do so....The principal forces Gakushu to transfer into class 3-E. The End class. Whatever he was expecting, it surely wasn’t a giant yellow balloon, English lessons on flirting and a PE class where he gets his ass handed to him.But if he thinks that is all, then, really, he is dead wrong.





	1. Moving Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thornsword (eeeeeeee)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeeeeeee/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Asano Comes To Play](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5551208) by [thornsword (eeeeeeee)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeeeeeee/pseuds/thornsword). 



> All credit goes to the original author. This is just a continuation, meaning I will not rewrite the first chapter. So, to have better understanding of the context, read the original work here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/5551208
> 
> A few things I will change:
> 
> 1\. I will call the main character of this work, Asano Gakushu "Gakushu" instead of "Asano", how it was in the original fic.
> 
> 2\. I will change the time frame. As the original author has stated, this work takes place roughly after Nagisa beat the shit out of Takaoka (the second time) and the mid-term exams. However, Gakushu aced that exam, and therefore, the fact that his father transferred him to class E would make no sense. I will set this story right after the episode "Leader Time", or chapter 94 for the manga readers (I will follow the anime's storyline though), therefore giving Gakuho a valid reason to move Gakushu to class E as a form of punishment. I personally think it would be in-character of him to do so.
> 
> Enjoy.

Were it somebody else, this mountain-climbing thing would have been both tedious and exhausting. For Gakushu, though, it was only tedious. Despite that he walked home everyday, it wasn’t nearly as unbearable as this. The long trek from the top to the bottom of the mountain didn’t bother him as much as the heat and his all-day humiliation. Knowing his father’s secret suddenly wasn’t that much of a prize anymore. All he wanted to do now was go home and trash his father’s office — maybe not minding getting kicked out of the house. After all, that was what delinquents (and trouble-makers, he wouldn’t want to forget that) would do, right? 

Gakushu scratched the idea however. To achieve his ultimate goal — overpowering the man he called his father, he needed to get back to 3-A. But lowering himself to try and please the man wouldn’t do. It wasn’t what he would ever want to do, and that man, Gakuho Asano, was clever enough to figure out his intentions. Settling in class 3-E wouldn’t do either. Knowing his father, the man would take that as a sign of him accepting himself as one of the weaklings, and therefore would just look down on him as one. 

But from what he had just witnessed, class 3-E wasn’t particularly weak, at least in some… _aspects._ Especially Nagisa Shiota, who he most definitely shouldn’t have looked down on, seeing how easily that boy had defeated him, and how he (and his class) was _literally assassinating_ their homeroom teacher. 

Speaking of whom, Gakushu wondered what on Earth had happened that could cause a creature who destroyed the moon to decide to start teaching, and teaching the weakest class, at that. Eyebrows furrowing, Gakushu wiped away the sweat condensing on his forehead. He looked to his right, realizing that he had reached the park near his house. Soon, his suffering from the heat would be over. 

But he didn’t account for the fact that he might bump into _some_ _people_ on his way. 

“Oh, Asano-kun, didn’t see you there.” Koyama Natsuhiko’s voice was above his head. Gakushu glanced upward, his eyes meeting those of his former classmate. Despite being more intimidating at school, Gakushu couldn’t, of course, couldn’t make up for the fact that he was a little shorter than Koyama. 

“What do you want?” His voice came off a little more hostile than he had expected it to, but Gakushu didn’t care for it that much anymore. Really, Gakushu just wanted to be in his room with the air conditioner on full power. 

“Already forgetting old friends, Asano-kun?” Another voice came from behind Koyama. It was Seo. Gakushu could feel the venom in his words, but he didn’t reply. He felt no need to. Instead, he kept walking, ignoring the two obstacles. 

Someone grabbed his forearm, making him stop. Gakushu turned around, amethyst pupils stared back at his former friends in a piercing gaze, making them step back a little. They looked back into his eyes, little bits of fear sprinkled in their gaze. His arm was still in a sweaty grip. Gakushu yanked it back, drying it with his shirt and walked away. The back of his mind still echoed his father’s words on his last day in the A class. They didn’t necessarily sting, but they made him suffer nontheless. 

_Now that Asano-kun is in the E class, I expect you all to treat him in a suitable manner._

And that was when all his “friends” turned to stare at him. Those stares that used to be so full of respect and admiration, so much of appreciation, were now cold. Disgusted. As if he was a disgrace. 

Gakushu’s hands formed fists next to his pants, and, impulsively, those fists were driven to the nearby wall. He panted, feeling the concrete’s uneven surface tearing at his skin. He lifted his knuckles off the wall just to see some red beginning to taint the area. Unbothered about the injury, he resumed walking. His house was just ahead of him. Gakushu unknowingly let out a sigh of relief, though he knew he would be facing something even worse inside. He turned as the wall ended to walk inside his yard. The label saying “Asano” stared at him as he went pass it. 

Already, Gakushu could feel his father’s aura making him uncomfortable. 

He opened the door, not caring enough to say that he was home. Though Gakushu didn’t think he needed to say it, because his father was already standing there, waiting for him, arms crossed and a victorious smile painted across his face. 

“Asano-kun, how was your first day in the E class?” The man began. Eyes that bore the similar color to Gakushu’s glanced down at him. It was the same look in his eyes. Disgusted. Telling him he was nothing but a disappointment. 

“None of your concern, Mister Principal.” He answered, sneering, then bent down to untie his shoes. He stepped out of them, and when his feet were about to touch the wooden floor, the principal blocked him.

“You see, Asano-kun, I don’t house failures.” The man stated blatantly, and Gakushu could feel his stomach dropping. His father’s gaze darkened, looking down at him like he was a piece of dirt that ruined the pristine house. Taking his son’s stare as a sign of agreement, the man continued, “All of your belongings have been moved in the morning. I will take you to your new house. Of course, I will still be paying for your bills, and will transfer an allowance to your house every month. However, I expect to never see you in this area again. I do not particularly enjoy looking at disappointments.” 

And just like that, Asano Gakushu was kicked out of his own house. 

———

He stared at the building. It was a mediocre place, nothing really stood out that much to him. Tiled balconies, brown and tan walls, and rectangular designs. Just a regular, modern-era apartment building. The man’s car had left right after it took him there, as if it didn’t want to stay for too long. Gakushu held the key tightly in his hand. It was set. He would live in that building. No turning back. 

The man didn’t even give him a way to.

The elevator took him to the third floor, where his apartment would be. Gakushu walked out, thanking God there wasn’t anyone in that metal cabin. What he hated most would be having to start a conversation with some lady and pretend to be nice, just because he had a reputation to uphold. Asano Gakushu, the only son of Kunugigaoka Junior High’s principal, was known all around the district, maybe even the city. It was all thanks to the school’s reputation as one of the most prestigious in Japan. He sighed. Fame had its troublesome side. 

Tiled walls greeted him as he strolled along the hall, trying to find his apartment. The floor appeared to had been cleaned lately, and the balcony rails didn’t seem all that rusty. Either this building was quite well taken-care of or it was new enough for the rust to not settle. Gakushu went with his first speculation, hoping to be optimistic in the worst situation he could ever think of being in. The sky was turning into a salmon color, one that was almost the same as his hair’s. It was going to get dark soon. The lights that would eventually illuminate the hall had already been turned on above him. 

Stomach rumbling, he realized that he hadn’t really eaten anything. He couldn’t concentrate on lunch, courtesy of Akabane and Shiota. Were they at the main school, those actions would have been against the rules, but he guessed they didn’t really have rules in Class E’s building. They were all a wild crowd. Chaotic. Uncontainable. Weird. 

_Free_. 

Gakushu stopped at the word. Yes. They were free. Unrestrained. They couldn’t be confined to those perfect little cubes named “role model” that man had created. They weren’t made to be so. But him, he was different. He _was_ that cube, the most perfect form of a student Mister Principal had built and was still polishing. He didn’t fit in with them. Principal Asano could see that, and he was using it. The perfect punishment. Forcing the strong to stay with the weak. He could clearly feel his dominance, but couldn’t use it, simply because they didn’t _care_. Akabane, Shiota, that orange-haired girl, that weird kid with the bandana. And that fucking yellow balloon, too. They didn’t treat him like how they were supposed to. 

They treated him like one of them. 

The echo of his footsteps silenced before the wooden door.  _302_ , the sign next to it said. There was a label below it. _Asano_. A metal mailbox was underneath everything. He checked the mailbox, only to find an envelop with _Allowance_ scribbled neatly on it. Gakushu inserted the key, twisted it, and opened the door. Darkness welcomed him, as if he was one of their own. Palming the wall, Gakushu found the light switch and flicked it. The sudden brightness made him flinch, but didn’t surprise him for too long. Putting his bag down on the wooden part of the floor, Gakushu closed the door and slipped off his shoes.

He walked into the house, a little unused to the silence without that man’s helper cooking in the kitchen. It was a fairly large apartment, if he lived by himself in it. Gakushu could feel a smirk forming briefly on his face. Really, Asano Gakuho couldn’t buy him a house in a cheaper place apparently. That man also had a reputation to uphold. Gakushu paced to the kitchen, where all necessary equipments to make a decent meal were ready. He opened the fridge, no food yet. His attention turned to the living room, where a half-comfortable, leather-covered sofa was lying. A 40-inch TV was there also, in all its glory. A glass coffee table was between the two, its surface clear, unused. 

Next, he visited his bedroom, where all his belongings had been stacked up neatly in cardboard boxes, not much, but enough to block his way to the bed. Gakushu told himself to unpack all those boxes later as the rumbling inside his stomach reminded him of his state of hunger. Which brought him to the next thing he realized.

He didn’t know how to cook.

Peeling open the envelop, Gakushu half-heartedly looked at the thick pack of money. He counted, making sure to not miss any bill. Again, one of the things he owed that man. He reminded himself to pay Principal Asano back the money he spent on him in the future. 

The whole pack was thirty thousand yen, more than enough for one month. Gakushu stuffed some of the bills in his wallet and put the rest back in the envelop, throwing it on his bed. He got out of his house in no time, not forgetting to grab his school jacket, which he later on changed to a regular blazer, in case the weather got bad unexpectedly. He also made another reminder to himself that he would learn to cook as soon as he got back the following day.

And as Gakushu walked to the elevators, he swore he could see something blue entering the house next door to his. 

His first thoughts of it were centered on only one person. Shiota. The one who caused his major embarrassment of the day. 

———

For his lack of imagination, time, and pickiness while hungry, Gakushu settled on fastfood. Particularly, burgers. It was a blind pick, as he had never been in that area before. All he did was walking into a random McDonalds on the street before he collapsed and ordered something. The variety of burgers on that menu surprised him (and so did the amount of people), so, again, he picked blindly, not expecting his first burger experience to be anything decent. 

He sat down on a table looking out to the streets with his tray. The wrapping perplexed him a little, making him question whether or not he should just eat it too. 

“How do you open these things?” He muttered, clearly had not yet considered the taping underneath the burger. Ultimately, he decided to flip the food over and there lied the tape, see-through but not completely invisible. Gakushu peeled it off with his nails. The wrapper came off with ease after that, a little wet from the steamy hot food. The bun appeared, Gakushu flipped it over again and placed it on his plate. He removed the wrapper, the still-standing rich ass kid in him immediately disappointed with the sogginess of the burger. 

_It didn’t look like this in the menu._

There was thunder in his stomach again, and Gakushu decided to just screw it and eat the damn thing anyway. But that was where he ran into his second problem. 

_How do you hold this thing?_

He poked at it experimentally, then tried picking it up in both hands with his thumbs under the bun and four other fingers holding the top. Carefully, he lifted it up, the sogginess still bothering him a little. But when the smell of it attacked his nose, Gakushu was convinced that, in spite of how wet the bun is, this burger _should_ be halfway decent. He bit into the food, then chewed and swallowed. Despite how moist the bun appeared, it was actually dry. The meat was fairly seasoned, coupled with a mayonnaise-like sauce that was starting to drip onto his hands. He was enjoying the food, but couldn’t just sit there like some loser with sauce dripping down his hands. Annoyed because of the interrupted meal, Gakushu picked up some of the tissues that came with his burger and cleaned his hands. 

“Asano-kun?” A man’s voice called in front of him. Gakushu switched his attention from his hands to the man. It was a tall man with black spiky hair, a black suit that fit him as if tailored, and a stern look on his face. He was familiar, and Gakushu remembered him as one of class E’s teachers. In the school’s records, that man was supposed to be class 3-E’s homeroom teacher. As it turned out, this man was only a PE teacher, or, an assassin trainer. The homeroom teacher was actually that yellow balloon. 

What was his name again?

“Karasuma-sensei.” Gakushu blurted out before he could think any longer. He watched as the man put the dark brown plastic tray on his table and slowly sat down. Karasuma-sensei was also having burgers, as it seemed, but there were not one, but three on his tray. The former best student looked up to his new teacher, perplexed. “Are you.. eating with someone else?”

“No.” The man answered, casually unwrapping one of the burgers. 

“So why three?” Gakushu picked his burger up again.

“This one is for tomorrow’s lunch.” The teacher pointed at one of the unwrapped burgers. “And this one is for tomorrow’s dinner.” He pointed at the other one. Gakushu went silent, not because of the information, but because the look the man had when giving it, like he was actually serious about it. 

_Though, this man.. how did he stay fit with this diet?_

“So.. do you only eat burgers or..”

“No, I switch it up with instant ramen sometimes.”

_Seriously._

“Oh, and Asano-kun, you’re holding the burger wrong.” Karasuma-sensei said suddenly. Gakushu was confused. “The most scientifically correct way to hold a burger is with your thumbs and pinkies supporting the bottom bun,” the man demonstrated as he spoke. Gakushu was speechless, “and your three other fingers on top of it.” Gakushu followed him, it was true that the burger felt more secure now, but how did Karasuma-sensei, a government’s agent, know about this?

Clearly, the man had spent a lot of time in his life living on burgers. 

They ate in silence. Gakushu enjoyed the rest of the burger with little to no at all sauce spillage. That was before Karasuma-sensei began a conversation.

“How was your first day in this class?” 

“It was..” Gakushu paused, half to chew the burger, half to decide whether he should lie or tell the truth. But it was a government’s agent he was talking to, and the man could know when he was lying.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” 

It went silent again for a while. This silence wasn’t the one he had between himself and his fa— Principal Asano. That one was stressful, unnerving to say the least. This one was only a little uncomfortable. Maybe because they were only staring at each other with their dinners. 

“So you really thought you could beat Nagisa-kun back there.” Karasuma-sensei spoke again, though this time it seemed like it was more to himself than to Gakushu. 

The latter stayed silent, unwillingly recalling his defeat — the first ever time when his clothes got dirt stuck on them. His mind skipped back to the look in Shiota’s eyes, something akin to bloodlust— no, it _was_ bloodlust. He could feel the plastic knife on his throat again, and those knees digging into his back. It didn’t pain him as much as it did embarrass him. For some reason, that plastic knife that only worked against the balloon felt real. Gakushu swallowed the last bite of burger, but, somehow, it didn’t go down, as if there was something blocking at his throat. 

“Asano-kun.” Karasuma-sensei’s call snapped him back to reality.

“Yes, sensei?”

“You can’t expect yourself to defeat Nagisa-kun on your first, second, or even tenth try. That kid, he had talents, a natural-born assassin.” With that, his new PE teacher left the seat, a plastic bag of burgers dangling beside him. Gakushu swallowed again. The burger bite had already been digested, but there was still something clogging up his throat. 

A natural-born assassin.

He stood up and went out through the door. 

———

Gakushu checked his phone in the elevator. Eight already. He should get back to the apartment as fast as he could and take a shower. The dirt on his elbows bothered him. So did the now-closed wound on his knuckle. The doors opened, revealing the now-lit hallway. He walked out, hands in his blazer’s pockets. It did get colder at night, and he was glad he at least did something right at the end of the day. He took the elevator closest to his apartment. That way, he didn’t have to literally trek there from the other end of the hall. At the other side of the turn to his apartment, he heard someone, a woman. Apparently, she was scolding her child because of grades or something similar. Typical parents stuff. Gakushu decided to ignore it. But that was before the name mention.

“Shiota Nagisa!”

Gakushu flinched at it. Shiota Nagisa. The boy who had his blue hair in pigtails. He had tried to ignore it, but could it really be Shiota that he saw before going out? The woman was still shouting, and he stopped walking and hid behind the wall, looking out from it. Amethyst eyes opened wide. Shell-shocked.

The person looked exactly like Shiota, but was wearing much more feminine clothings — a jean skirt that extended to a little more than his mid-thigh and a burgundy hoodie. Blue, silky locks weren’t in pigtails, but were let loose, draping over his shoulders. “The girl” looked somber, her blue eyes staring at the ground as her mother’s words descent down at her frail shoulders like relentless shots from a mortar. 

“Nagisa! Are you even listening?” The woman shouted, surprising both this “Nagisa” and Gakushu. 

“Y— Yes, mother.” 

That voice. It couldn’t have been mistaken. 

“Seriously.” The woman took her key out of the bag. “Why do you even _want_ to stay in that loser class anyway? Nagisa,” her voice softened, “you don’t belong with them in the E class. You have to try harder at school, okay? And when you’re qualified, I will ask the principal to move you back to the main school. How does that sound?”

“Nagisa” didn’t answer, but Gakushu knew, now, that it was the Shiota Nagisa who defeated him. Shiota walked with his mother inside the dark apartment. The one next to Gakushu’s.

He waited until they had completely gone inside the house to get out of his hiding spot. His eyes stared at the ground solemnly. Turned out, it wasn’t just him who suffered. Shiota did, too. But why, though was he having his hair down? Why was he wearing girls’ clothes? Gakushu decided that he would ask Shiota first thing tomorrow, seeing that they would be likely to bump into each other on the way. Right then, he couldn’t really make assumptions. He knew how much they would hurt, and he didn’t really want to hurt the people he personally empathized with.

Gakushu saw the darkness and turned on the lights. His book bag was still lying near the door where he left it. He took it and went inside of his house, planning to do his homework right after showering. Before that, though, he switched on the hot water switch and went in his room. He threw his book bag on the bed, where the money were still scattered all over the sheets. He dropped himself on the bed, eyes staring up to the ceiling. It had been a long day.

He could hear that same woman talking on the other side of the wall.

“Look, Nagisa-chan.”

He sighed.

“Look how lovely this dress fits you.” She squealed excitedly.

No one answered her.

“If you’d been my daughter, I would raise you to be the perfect girl.”

Gakushu punched the wall again.


	2. Time For The Second Day - 1st Period

Sunlight woke him up before the alarm clock had a chance to. Gakushu cursed himself for forgetting to close the blinds the previous night, and for buying the most annoying alarm clock in existence. Right then, he just wanted a hammer in his hand to smash the shit out of the object. He didn’t need much to wake himself up — a light push would be more than enough. He was similar to Mister Principal in that aspect. The man slept for only two hours a night, and only needed the smallest of creaks in the floorboard to wake him up. Sometimes Gakushu wondered if that man was a monster disguised as human. 

“Monster.” He would always conclude, muttering to himself.

He stretched his back on the bed, then got out of the bed’s cover. The bedroom looked unfamiliar, or, rather, completely different from _his._ The bed was at the corner of the room instead of its usual spot in the middle. His closet had somehow teleported from next to the bed to being opposite from the left side, and his table was in front of his bed now, next to the sliding glass door leading to the balcony. But as Gakushu remembered, his room didn’t have a balcony. There was only a large window looking down to the streets. And speaking of large, Gakushu was pretty certain that his room had, for some reason, shrunken in size. 

And right before he thought he was kidnapped, the words echoed in his head.

_I don’t house failures._

Gakushu let go of the bed sheet, having no idea he had been holding it into a fistful for God-knows-how-long. The light that reached his eyes wasn’t enough to illuminate them, make them glint like those that were so brilliantly sinister of the man who gave them to him. He stood up, the early breeze didn’t really seem to faze him even a little — one of the traits he, again, inherited form Mister Principal. He walked to his closet, taking down one set of uniform that he had organized and hung neatly the previous night. Turning it around to inspect the condition, Gakushu decided that it didn’t really need ironing. He laid the uniform on his unmade bed, telling himself that he would fold the covers later. 

His daily routines passed by quickly, with him deciding against buttoning his vest jacket up all the way. They didn’t suffocate him, per se, still, he found them annoying. And since he was already in the E class, he should just let himself loose a little. His actions were followed by a silence that would have been unnerving for other people. Gakushu disregarded the silence, having been used to it all his life. Mister Principal wasn’t a particularly ideal person for casual morning conversations. And when they did happen, those talks would usually be disguises for something much different from “How well did you sleep?” and “Are you ready for today?”

It was a little strange, to him, that the house didn’t smell like freshly-brewed coffee — Arabica or Espresso or whatever it was. Mister Principal would stop him from initiating conversations before he could finish the unbelievably bitter coffee. And when he was allowed to talk, Gakushu would have lost all interest in doing so. Things had always been like that. _That was the way Mister Principal had raised him._

Gakushu was fine with that. He guessed. 

Normally, breakfast would have been served by then, and the helper would have gone home, leaving the father-son duo to sit and eat in silence, separated by a newspaper in front of Mister Principal’s face. In the era where people mostly got their news on Facebook, that man still preferred a physical newspaper. A forty one year-old man was, of course, old, but couldn’t be that old-schooled. So, instead, Gakushu thought the newspaper was only so that they didn’t have to talk, despite that hey knew nothing about each other. It was fine. 

Leaving the house without breakfast did, somewhat, take a toll on him. Gakushu could physically see his stomach filing complaints about its mistreatments recently. He checked his wallet, there were still some bills leftover from his dinner the day before. Maybe he could stop by at a convenience store for some grocery shopping. 

And two months ago, he thought “Asano Gakushu” and “grocery shopping” could never belong in the same sentence. 

He closed the door behind himself, one hand carrying his book bag, the other locking the house. Experimentally, Gakushu slung the book bag behind his back, holding it from the front like how Akabane usually did it. The action didn’t necessarily change anything major, but it did cause him to feel a little more rebellious. He should do that more often, though he would risk being involved in Akabane’s relentless teasing. 

The name sign on the door next to his reminded him of the reason why he hadn’t gone anywhere yet. There were no sounds coming from his neighbor’s house, or maybe he just couldn’t hear them. Gakushu kept waiting nontheless, knowing he couldn’t just barge inside and ask them to hurry up because he needed to know something. He could, but he had a reputation to uphold, even when he was out of that ever-so-prestigious class. And Gakushu stood there, book bag held Akabane-style,anticipating pigtails of blue hair peeking over the door at any moment. 

It took a little too long, but the small boy finally pushed open his apartment door. Apparently, the wooden door was oiled quite well, as it didn’t make any sounds upon opening. Just as Gakushu had predicted, the blue hair appeared first, then came his face, and, finally, his entire body. Shiota walked out, mumbling something similar to “Bye, mother.” His hair was down, and so was his head. The boy slowly closed the door, pushing the heavy panel until the lock clicked. Until then did he let out a heavy sigh and started pulling his hair up to tie them back into his signature pigtails. And that was when he saw amethyst eyes scrutinizing every of his action. 

“A— Asano-kun!” The small boy seemed almost freaked out, like he was caught committing crime. His hands froze in place, long, silky strands of hair fell down on his shoulders again, turning him into a completely different person appearance-wise. Shiota could barely contain his giggles at the way Gakushu was holding his book bag, so the latter, whilst glaring at the other boy, went back to holding his bag the role model student-style. “U.. um…” Shiota continued, “so why are you here? And why so early in the morning?”

So he didn’t notice. Gakushu pointed at the label next to his apartment door. Shiota, being on the shorter side, came closer and stood on his tiptoe to read it.

“I live here.” Not giving the other a chance to deduce, Gakushu stated in the most blatant fashion possible. “Now.” He added as an afterthought. 

“Oh.” Shiota bit his inner lip. It seemed like the fact was still sinking into him. He was still analyzing it, thinking of something that, if Gakushu really paid attention, wouldn’t be all that much of a mystery. “So you live here now.” He mumbled, mostly to himself. Gakushu didn’t want to interrupt his thought process and started checking the time. It was early enough for three more minutes of contemplation, then, they had to go. Gakushu didn’t really want to think of the punishment that yellow octopus could think of for late students. 

Shiota realized this, too, and got going. They walked side to side, Gakushu leading for his monstrously long strides that Shiota dreamt of having. Their steps were synchronized, but they didn’t think about it too much. The hallway got darker at the end, despite it being way past dawn. Perhaps the light didn’t bother shining in there anymore, and just decided to abandon it gradually, because as they stood in front of the elevator, it was pitch-black all over again. Shiota pressed the down button on the control panel. The button glowed into an arrow indicating its direction. 

Silence was all that were between them, yet, it was a new kind of silence. It wasn’t an ice block with Espresso’s fragrant scent and an impenetrable wall made out of paper, but it wasn’t the solitary break he had, one that he only used to jump into another wave of thoughts. That silence was neither of those. It was something oddly calming. Gakushu was rational enough to understand he had only known Shiota recently. They never interacted until yesterday’s spar, and had stopped communicating until just then. Amethyst eyes caught a stolen glance from blue ones, then returned it. Shiota was tying his hair up again, his eyes shifted their focus on the double metal doors of the elevator. 

Those doors slid open, revealing an empty cabin. They walked in, Gakushu pressing the floor number while Shiota was stll busy with his hair. As if waiting for someone, the doors didn’t close until a few seconds later. When they shut completely, Gakushu had finally remembered his purpose.

“What’s going on in your family?” He asked. Blunt. Straight to the point. There were no reasons for him to beat around the bush at that point when he had figured out pretty much everything already, and was only asking to confirm. 

As if in a daze, Shiota stood still, azure eyes staring at him in this odd disbelief that, for a moment, Gakushu swore time had somehow stopped around them. Shiota was processing the information again, or making it seem like so, so that he could have time to figure out an answer. A “ding” came from the elevator, signalling their arrival at the first floor. It gave the smaller of the two an obvious advantage. Gakushu sighed, reminding himself that there would be many more ways to confirm what he had inferred, seeing that Shiota had looked so stressed-out about the subject. 

He walked behind the smaller boy out of the elevator, then quickly caught up thanks to his long strides. 

“Shiota.” He called for the younger boy, clearly still wanting, at least, an excuse for not sharing something that might not be suitable for doing so.

“Please, call me by my first name, Asano-kun.” Shiota replied, some kind of a miserable smile crossing his lips, though it was replaced with another one. Gakushu thought, for a moment, that there wasn’t any time when Shiota didn’t smile. “And I’m sorry. I can’t really tell you those things. Only Karma-kun knows about them, and.. I guess..” He trailed off, his eyes turned to look at Gakushu’s, apologetic. 

The taller boy nodded briefly, understanding that it wasn’t something easy to just let everybody know, just like him, Mister Principal, and the fragile yet impervious wall of the _Daily News_ between them. He wanted to tell people about that wall, too, but there was just something about it that kept him from doing so. He could have used it against his Mister Principal— the “wall” between them, and he could have climbed on top of the man’s neck and rode him like a submissive horse. Maybe it was the blood connection, the very thing that gave Gakushu the wits and talents enough to come around and bite back at the giver (who had been asking for too much of him in return for his gifts). 

The apartment building was fairly far from the school, and September morning drizzles helped in blowing small gusts of cool air on their skins, making their cheeks just a little bit colder. Involuntarily, Gakushu took a small glance at the figure walking beside him. Shiota was still wearing his usual clothing, the one he had been seen with almost everyday — a buttoned navy blue sleeveless vest outside of a regular white button-up shirt, sleeves rolled up, completed with Kunugigaoka Junior High’s gray uniform pants and two extra hair ties on each arm. The pants sleeves also appeared to be rolled up, and that was when Gakushu realized the ever-so-noticeable height difference between the two of them.

And that was also when his stomach sued him for its mistreatment. 

They stopped at a road split. Dead silent. And then, there was laughter. Shiota’s, not his. The boy bursted out in tiny giggles— clear, strangely melodic giggles that were threatening to become laughters if they got just a bit louder. Shiota covered his mouth with both hands, glancing up at Gakushu with guilty eyes. 

“Shio— Nagisa.. kun, was it _that_ funny?” He asked, trying to keep his face as stoic as possible, trying to figure out how Karasuma-sensei managed to do it all the time. 

“Ah, no,” clearly, Shiota was still trying to restrain his laughter, “not really. Just that.. I never thought I would get into this kind of situation before.” He eventually straightened himself up, then opened his book bag, looking for something. Gakushu couldn’t help but look over his hand, trying to make out the identity of the object before it was pulled out. 

It was a small paper bag, its shape resembling a square. Shiota carefully unwrapped the bag to reveal a sandwich cut neatly into two triangles inside. He handed the bag to Gakushu. 

“Here, it’s my lunch, but do you want a half? I can never finish it all.” It seemed like Shiota could never help himself from a sheepish grin. “Karma-kun always finishes the other half for me, but he’s always full in the morning. And I.. don’t want Karma-kun to force himself for my sake.” 

Gakushu wanted to deny the sandwich. He really did. But, the next thing he knew, he was holding it in his hand, his stomach yelling at him to just eat it already. He looked to Shiota, questioning, receiving a nod in return. Gakushu turned his attention to the sandwich and took a bite at it. To his brain that had been blurred away by hunger, it tasted like heaven. The most prominent flavors must have been of the crisp bacon and the fresh tomato slices. He made sure to eat slowly, appearing less hungry than how he really was, kind of realizing that he would have nothing for lunch. It was fine though, he guessed, because there was a convenience store just near the gas station in front of them, he could buy something in there, maybe following Karasuma-sensei’s example and eat instant ramen for lunch. 

“Karma-kun!” Shiota called out suddenly, making Gakushu almost choke on the sandwich. Akabane was standing outside the convenience store, staring intently at something inside. His left hand was holding a carton of strawberry milk, and his right was holding the long handle of his book bag that was slinging behind his back. Gakushu was glad he didn’t keep holding his book bag that way. He didn’t need Akabane’s mocking at any given time. 

Hearing the call, Akabane turned around. He waved at the approaching Shiota with his milk carton, not yet acknowledging Gakushu’s presence. The redhead looked lazy, almost, with his hair half taken-care of, wrinkled gray pants and the trademark black blazer. His mercury eyes, though still sparkling with that mischievous glint he wore everyday, had something different in them. Something Gakushu had never seen in him, because before, he had never seen anyone that happy upon meeting another person. As Shiota got closer, Gakushu saw a smile. Completely and utterly genuine. No efforts whatsoever in it, like it had been engraved in Akabane’s face the moment he saw the blue-haired boy. It was not, _definitely not_ , the same one Gakushu had when he spoke in front of a crowd or even the top students, or the one that was his half-ass effort to pretend everything was under control whenever nothing was in front of Mister Principal. 

“Asano-kun, come here.” Shiota waved him over, and Akabane saw him. Mercury eyes that had been smiling turned into two bullets carrying multiple questions, just waiting to shoot at him. Gakushu didn’t mind them that much, only walked over and purposefully stood next to Shiota just to draw a new reaction out of Akabane. He smirked, thinking he had achieved his purpose when Akabane’s eyes turned from bullets to nuclear bombs. But that was when Akabane placed a kiss on Shiota’s cheek, making the latter visibly fume up in the process (Gakushu wondered, even until he was old, how that was possible). The redhead’s lips made a smacking sound after the display of affection, probably grossing Gakushu out a little, and smiled triumphantly as Shiota’s face grew beet-red. Akabane stuck a tongue out just to mess with Gakushu even more, and Shiota pointed inside the convenience store. “Look at him.”

Gakushu turned his attention to the direction of Shiota’s finger, only to see his new teacher, the yellow octopus in a failed attempt at disguising himself holding an erotic magazine. If Gakushu wasn’t grossed out by Shiota and Akabane, he sure as shit was when he saw the creature turning a pastel pink color as he leafed through the magazine. He saw Shiota scribbling something in his yellow notebook as Akabane was taking multiple photos of their teacher with his phone. If it was an assassination plan, it was a weird one, but if it was only to mess with the yellow creature, well, it was still pretty weird. Though, seeing that this Koro-sensei had much more difficulty dodging the students’ attacks when flustered, it could be a good plan — weird, but good. 

“Come on, hide.” Shiota took his hand suddenly, pulling him into the alley behind the convenience store. “He’s going out.” Gakushu looked to the direction of the store’s entrance as Koro-sensei was walking out. 

“I have achieved inner peace,” the creature said. He stood there for a while, looking around, as if to ensure no one was there, before jumping up and flying into the sky, disappearing in an instant.

Gakushu’s face was blank. Inner peace his ass.

Akabane walked out first, content with the abundance of photos he had in his phone, followed by Shiota. Gakushu approached the convenience store, planning his lunch. Aside from the variety of instant ramen, what else could be considered lunch in that store? The colorful slushies definitely weren’t good decisions, as they would melt after thirty minutes. Of course, sweets wouldn’t do. Aside from the fact that no one ate sweets for lunch, Gakushu was intent on keeping up with the protein-based diet his personal trainer told him to follow, even when Mister Principal had no longer allowed him to use the gym card. 

“Wanting to be late, I see.” Akabane’s voice was next to him. Gakushu turned to his side, facing red hair. 

“Wanting to buy lunch is a crime, I see.” Gakushu mocked him, heading straight toward the convenience store as he checked the time. He could still make it if he ran to school right after purchasing, mountain-climbing time included. Behind him, he could hear some shuffling sounds.

“I can share my lunch with you,” Akabane declared suddenly, holding up his giant of a bento box. Gakushu stared at the wrapped box suspiciously. “My parents came home from their road trip, and the old lady,” by that, Gakushu thought it meant Akabane’s mother, “has an old habit of over-preparing or what not. Plus, Nagisa-kun told me to share it with you because I’m not going to finish it anyway.” 

At that point, Gakushu had already looked over to Shiota, already guessing one of the reasons behind the suspicious friendliness. He glanced at Akabane with his bento box, looking at him with eyes that bore no animosity whatsoever. Despite that, Gakushu still scrutinized him, trying to dig up information from the golden eyes. Knowing Akabane, Gakushu understood that, unless it was Shiota, there was always something shady behind his actions.

“Hey, if we don’t go now, we’re late.” Shiota told them, looking up from his phone. Akabane nodded.

“Fine.” Gakushu begrudgingly took up on the lunch offer. He would have to deal with whatever that was going to happen then. 

They walked the rest of their way to school with Akabane walking in between, being oddly touchy with Shiota. Gakushu could tell the other was unused to he extra attention through the way his face was literally burning up. Clearly, Akabane was jealous, that was the only reasonable explanation to his over-the-top PDA. Gakushu didn’t want to be stuck with those lovebirds, but he guessed he would be that way for the rest of the school year, unless Mister Principal decided otherwise. He sighed heavily, trying to show Akabane that he wasn’t interested in disrupting their little romance. Obviously, the message didn’t come across. 

Or maybe Akabane just wanted to mess with him.

“Say, Former Virtuoso-kun—“

“Don’t call me that.” 

“Why are you walking to school with _my_ Nagisa-kun, of all people, today?” 

Gakushu wanted to grab the nearest pole and bash it in Akabane’s head until his entire face, no, body, looked like his hair. 

“Mister Principal moved me there. Said he didn’t house failures.” 

“Oh.” Reacted Akabane in a singsong voice. There was never anything good if that happened. Ever. “So daddy’s boy was finally kicked out of his house.”

Gakushu knew it. He fucking knew it. He didn’t bother with Akabane, however, and turned to Shiota, seeing the boy still a little red.

“Hey, Shio— Nagisa-kun, how do you deal with _this_ ,” he gestured Akabane, “everyday?”

Shiota laughed awkwardly, seemingly trying to think of a way to stop Akabane. Though Gakushu intended for the statement to be a joke, he actually wanted to know how people dealt with Akabane every time he opened his mouth. Maybe because Shiota was in a relationship with Akabane, his tolerance was higher. 

There was something weird about their relationship, however.

“Of course Nagisa _-_ kun can handle me.” Akabane chimed in, completely oblivious to Gakushu’s questioning stare.

“If you _are_ in a relationship,” Gakushu drew his eyebrows together, thinking, “why the honorifics?”

For a moment, he could feel the other two freeze at their place. Just as he had figured out, there was a hole in their relationship, something he had seen through easily. In fact, it was something anyone could see through if they noticed enough. There was still a wall between Shiota and Akabane — one that, Gakushu could sense, they were trying to break, but kept failing in despite their intimacy. Gakushu himself wasn’t interested in playing cupid, however. 

“Co— Come on, we’re going to be late.” Shiota coughed. 

“Nagisa.. kun,” Akabane’s voice was noticeably smaller. Gakushu turned around to see him setting his blazer on Shiota’s shoulders. The redhead’s hand found its way to Shiota’s, squeezing it gently but discreetly. “You’re freezing. Was it the rain?” He muttered, enough for Gakushu to have a sense of the conversation. The morning drizzle hadn’t ended yet, though it was small enough for them to not notice if they were really immersed in their thoughts. The two that were falling behind started walking to catch up with Gakushu. 

He could keep making his way to school, yet, he waited for them. And then, he saw it, the purple mark half-covered by Shiota’s rolled-up sleeve, blooming like a flower on his skin. And, once again, Gakushu wanted to punch the wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Koro-sensei's line was inspired by a moment in the extra chapters of the manga. It was so hilarious I had to include it.


	3. Time For The Second Day - 2nd Period

They arrived at school on time, and, by some kind of witchcraft, even before Koro-sensei. Gakushu wasn’t really surprised about that, knowing that the octopus had probably spotted them spying on him. Considering his speed the day before, when he flew all the way to Australia and got lamingtons as Gakushu was stabbing him, it could easily have been the case. He finished his long trek from the bottom to the top of the mountain with Shiota and Akabane walking by his side, both already occupied with each other. It seemed like neither of them minded the heavy atmosphere earlier, all started from the way they themselves addressed one another. 

If they were at the main building, Gakushu would have sworn on his dignity to force suspension on them, or at least put them in the E class (everything was an irony to him now, really). Clearly, they were violating the school’s rules and regulations, the ones he had remembered by heart and found little to no holes in. Enough said, Mister Principal had always had a way with words and their uses, had ultilized them and turned them into his most loyal servants, making them carry his orders without flaws and failures. And for as long as he could remember, Gakushu had found himself participating in a classroom where he would be taught these exact skills, the classroom where Mister Principal was the teacher, and he was the student. It seemed like that was all what their relationship was going to be — a teacher and his student — _purely professional_. 

He headed straight to his table — at the end of the class, one seat apart from Akabane’s left — feeling himself never being able to get used to the smell of stale wooden desks and chairs, the damp air, and the overall downgrading building. Akabane and Shiota were still messing around with each other when he had managed to lower himself down on the seat, and the girl who sat in front and to the left of him was busying herself eating from her, what he could say was second, bento box. Gakushu hung his book bag on the side of the desk, then took out his homework, checking and rechecking just to kill time. 

“Good morning Asano-kun.” A voice sang next to Gakushu. He turned, only to see a gigantic black box, its shiny surface reflecting what he could only perceive as Mister Principal. “Asano-kun, my face is up here.” The voice told him, so Gakushu looked up.

“What the—“ 

There was a screen on the box, in which the face of a girl could be seen. She was of the “cute” type, according to how it was defined, with purple hair and eyes that were a mixture of baby blue and pale lavender. Only her profile was shown. She was wearing the female version of the Kunugigaoka uniform — a gray vest jacket and a white button-up, completed with a black tie. Gakushu’s mouth twitched with an odd sort of speechlessness. She, or, rather, this box, was the main firepower the day before, with up to five different kinds of guns sprouting from it. 

“What.. are you?” He asked, still not out of his dazed state.

“I’m an Autonomously Thinking Fixed Artillery, or, Ritsu, an AI specifically designed to assassinate Koro-sensei and your classmate. Nice to meet you Asano-kun!” She greeted him, a plastic hand appearing on the side of the box, gesturing toward him in an attempt at a handshake. Gakushu flashed her an awkward half-smile and shook the plastic hand before turning to face forward again, immediately greeted by a close-up glare that surprised him a bit.

“You’re a strong one.” 

The glare’s owner said. Gakushu’s eyebrows knitted together, half annoyed, half creeped-out by this weird member of the class (even though, in class 3-E, everyone was a freak, one way or another). They stared at each other for a prolonged amount of time, and Gakushu had time to carefully evaluate the opposite person. It was the weird bandana kid, the one partially responsible for his loss in the bo-tashi game. Could have been that he didn’t have a chance to do this weird thing to Gakushu the day before, so he did it now to make it up. 

“But not strong enough.” The kid spoke again. “My name is Itona Horibe. Welcome.” 

“What—“

Horibe walked away before he could say anything else. 

———

The first period was Japanese. As it turned out, it wasn’t witchcraft that helped them get to school before the octopus. Their yellow teacher was in New York, waiting for the new cupcake shop to open. And why would Gakushu, or, really, anyone, know this? 

His new sensei walked into class holding something that looked like a red velvet cupcake on his tentacle, and a box with the shop’s logo on another. Yuma Isogai’s opening shot surprised the creature, making him let go of the treat. The classroom was echoing with gunshots right after that, with Gakushu the only person not shooting or doing any assassination at all. Koro-sensei frantically tried to pick the cupcake up while dodging the bullets. He succeeded in both, and started munching on the food again as his students were shooting at him. At that point, Gakushu had understood the ordeal with the creature. He stood up, picked up his gun and started shooting. He aimed carefully, not intending to miss anything, but ultimately missed at every gunshot. 

When Koro-sensei finished the cupcake was when the whole class had run out of bullets. 

“Alright, class, let’s start our lesson shall we?” On the creature’s face were green stripes. The laugh Gakushu had heard people reporting on the news was coming from his mouth. Undoubtedly, his sensei was the strange yellow flying octopus and the mysterious cloaked man who bought all the snacks from the convenience store. 

———

The creature ran into the classroom, a green mochi held on his tentacle. His whole body was turning a pastel pink like how it was in the convenience store, and following him was a thrown anti-sensei knife, which he dodged easily. Gunshots continued after that, making Gakushu question what the octopus had just seen (or done). 

Jelavić-sensei ran into the classroom, on her hands were two anti-sensei pistols, shooting relentlessly at the octopus before he jumped out of the window and bursted to the sky, flying to God-knows-where. Jelavić-senei fixed her hair while walking to the board. She slammed the pistols down on the wooden surface of the teacher’s desk, picked up a piece of chalk and wrote on the board furiously.

“Eh, what’s the matter, Bitch-sensei?” Akabane asked in his usual mockery as Gakushu was reading the concoction of words written on the black board. His mouth hung agape at the realization of what they would be learning in this so-called English class.

“Jelavić-sensei.. isn’t this—“

“Repeat after me,” Completely ignoring the relatively new student, Jelavić-sensei pointed straight at the board, “ _That bastard octopus is a fucking pervert_.”

“But sensei—“

“ _That ba-su-tard octopus is a fucking pervert._ ” The whole class repeated, with Akabane and Nakamura chuckling at the sentence. Gakushu refused to say it. Even if she wasn’t technically a teacher, Jelavić-sensei should have known what to teach. This wasn’t even supposed to be in a lesson. 

“Asano-kun, the grammar portion of this class is mostly left for the octopus. I only teach the pronunciations and what that are necessary in a real life scenario.” Jelavić-sensei turned around to underline a few words in the sentence. She pointed at them. “Now, in real life, there will be times when you have to swear your ass off. These are some of the words for those times.”

Gakushu went silent. In front of the board, as nonchalantly as ever, Jelavić-sensei was still explaining the uses of the profanity, insulting Koro-sensei in the process. It suddenly dawned on Gakushu that the outfit she had on her was exceptionally revealing. Maybe the whole shenanigan earlier had something to do with it.

“In Japanese, ’s’, when not standing at the beginning of a word, is pronounced ‘su’ or ‘tsu’. However, in English, when ’s’ doesn’t stand at the beginning of the word, you don’t do that. It’s pronounced _ba-s-tard_ , not _ba-su-tard_. It’s like how, when you pronounce _kiritsu_ fast, you don’t include the _u_. Now try again.”

“ _That bastard octopus is a fucking pervert._ ”

“Good. Let’s try another one.”

The lesson went on as Gakushu tried to ignore this not-really-teacher-like Jelavić-sensei. Even though the whole class called her Bitch-sensei, he still didn’t think that was how a teacher should be called (because if it was, he would have called Mister Principal Pet-sensei, after all, Gakushu himself had been the student the principal had taught the longest). He breathed out, frustrated and bored at the same time. No one asked him to take anything out, so there weren’t that many items on his desk. Gakushu had now registered it as a mistake, as he had been wanting to just skip this class and move on to the next. 

Gakushu took his time to observe the class. As he had figured out, most of his classmates were obediently repeating after Jelavić-sensei, that girl with a ponytail was even taking notes on some of the words as it seemed (either that or she was doing another class’s homework, which, considering the level of her enthusiasm in class, was unlikely). His eyes diverted to his row, seeing that some people weren’t paying attention just like him. The guy in front of him was doodling something in his notebook, and baseball kid was yawning, then lying lazily on his desk. And even though Shiota seemed to be focusing, Gakushu could still spot discreet glances at Akabane that he took once in a while. 

Speak of the devil.

Gakushu turned his head towards Akabane’s direction. Just as he had guessed, the redhead was still staring at him, a little more hostile than he would be comfortable with. He had been glared at like that since the morning, even when Akabane was messing with Shiota as they were climbing up the mountain. Being the person he was, Gakushu didn’t mind telling himself not to sweat over it, but that would only happen if Akabane wasn’t the type to only stare at things when he was plotting something, which he was. 

His concerns were quickly resolved, though in a different way from what he expected. No confrontations, no fights broken out (which was odd, considering Akabane’s tendencies), not even a word of hostility exchanged. The explanation came in the form of a half-finished bento box, an offer to sit next to Akabane and Shiota while he was eating lunch,

“Here, told you I’d share, didn’t I?”

And wasabi in everything.

Of course, Gakushu hadn’t figured it out until he bit into the wasabi center of an egg roll. How and when exactly Akabane had done this, he had no idea, but Gakushu realized he had some choices to make, and having eaten half a ball of wasabi clearly wasn’t helping. He could either stop eating or continue, making it seem like this prank had no effects on him. As the now-swallowed wasabi’s scent started heating up his nostrils, he considered the impacts both of these actions would have on his and Akabane’s dignity, and what would be worse than realizing one’s own prank was ineffective? 

“What’s wrong, Asano-kun? Why are you glaring at that innocent egg roll?” 

Gakushu looked at the rest of the wasabi ball as his nostrils and the inside of his mouth were flaming up. He didn’t want to know just how much wasabi could be hidden in that bento box, but he was about to anyway. Discreetly, he took a deep breath, then glanced over to Akabane, who was back to messing with Shiota. The redhead had insisted on sitting next to him and Shiota to prevent “unfortunate happenings”, though Gakushu had discovered the dual-purpose of the seat the moment he bit into the “innocent egg roll”, as Akabane had phrased it.

He swallowed again to make sure the wasabi got down, then started looking for the Mister Principal inside of him — the centipede that had been forced down his throat since his birth — the one who could withstand anything. Gakushu had never thought he would need it, and still didn’t think so, although carrying the almost-inhuman genes from the cold wine-colored eyes could be convenient at times like these.

Lunch went on as if nothing had ever happened. Akabane’s expression showed some bits of surprise, but not much. It seemed like he had somehow predicted the happening. 

Outside of the class, away from the students and under a tree were two. Gakushu didn’t necessarily know what was happening there, but he definitely knew what Jelavić-sensei’s overly-sensual outfit was for now (though, by the look of it, it was a futile attempt at wooing Karasuma-sensei, despite all her skills the previous day).

———

“Number twenty-nine, Gakushu Asano-kun!” Karasuma-sensei called out, his loud voice booming in field and between four perfectly-aligned rows of students.

“Present!” Gakushu tried to rival with that voice, but, as authoritative as he might sound back in the A class, he realized that he just couldn’t (despite being nicknamed Genetic General) match that of an actual military man. It was nothing, all he needed to do was push himself harder, because, after all, he inherited the genes that made him better than everyone else.

Though what, _exactly_ , was he trying for?

“Karasuma-sensei, what are we doing today? Are we playing Cops and Robbers?” Okano had already had her hand up, voice filled with anticipation. “Please tell me we’re playing it, I have some new gymnastic moves!” She added.

Being new, Gakushu, of course, didn’t know what the fuck a game of Cops and Robbers was, and why the fuck it was being played in a PE class. Though, judging from what the PE class was like the day before, it was probably something relating to assassination skills. He didn’t think it would end up with him having no clues what to do like the time after his loss from Shiota. Unlike that time, Gakushu had now worn the E class’s army-style jumpsuits, which they called their “PE uniform”, though it looks like a somewhat incomplete model. Already, he could feel a light metal frame hidden within the layers of nylon fabric, incorporating with the design of the uniform. It almost felt like he was in the ROTC or some shit. 

The warm-up moves were quite exhausting, though Gakushu didn’t mind them very much. They were just a-little-more-intense versions of the exercises he used to do everyday with his gym trainer. Despite that, he paid attention just in time to hear Karasuma-sensei denying Okano’s game suggestion. Instead, their teacher pointed towards some drawn white lines on the field, each a few meters apart from another. He lead them closer to the lines and told them that he would only be sampling once. 

“This is a precision jump.” Karasuma-sensei half-shouted to them, before getting into his position behind one line. “Typically featured in parkour, and will be an important part of this advanced exercise I’m teaching you for the next few days. Feel free to start with a short distance, and increase gradually. However, there is a few things you need to know about this. First thing first,” the soldier jumped, landing exactly at the second line, “always try to land on the balls of your feet.” He pointed to his feet, where the tips of his trainers reach the middle of the white line. “That way, you’ll always have grip on the surface you’re landing on.” He instructed. “Secondly, try to land as quietly as possible and disperse force evenly throughout your legs, as you’ll most likely do consecutive jumps. That way, you’ll have more control over the impact with the surface, helping you to the next jump, or to not fall.” 

After some more detailed instructions, Karasuma-sensei finished his demonstration with a consecutive precision jump, going from the drawn lines on the field to the fallen logs on the ground, making his way around the students and into the forest, finally landing on a rock without much hardship. He looked back at the class, seemingly having chosen that rock to be his observation stand. 

“I expect everyone to be able to do this by the end of class. With your athletic abilities, I believe it’s achievable. Even you, Asano-kun.” Karasuma-sensei addressed the new student. “Even though you’re new, the way you kicked them down to defend the pole during bo-tashi shows that you’re trained in martial arts, am I correct?” Gakushu nodded. No point in lying if it wouldn’t help him that much. “If all of you are done before the end of class, and if we have enough time, maybe we’ll have a small game of Cops and Robbers.” The PE teacher nodded towards Okano. The girl nodded, excitement clearly _still_ glinting from her eyes. 

Gakushu walked to the lines. He had heard his trainer talk about this before — precision jump. It was demonstrated multiple times in the videos he came across online, when he had absolutely nothing to do. Performing that jump would be easy, but doing what Karasuma-sensei had just done would take some time. Though of course, he would be at the top of the class in this area.

Sort of.

When he had finished his experimental jumps, Gakushu realized that Okajima, Kimura and Horibe were, quite literally, jumping after each other around the field, using only their learnt precision jumps and some other moves like backflips or parkour rolls. Even the girls were jumping around freely, like they weren’t going through some sort of assassination training. It just looked like they were having fun. Liberated. 

Shaking the thoughts off his head before they plagued him even more, Gakushu tried to jump from the ground to a stable-looking log from a relatively far distance. He succeeded in his first try, and started doing more jumps to higher and further places on the field. Eventually, Gakushu had started to feel himself going faster, until the wind was no longer brushing tentatively through his skin, but rather moving quicker against it, fleeting cool sensations repeatedly hit his face, and he moved more, wanting to feel them more. 

For the first time, he actually felt it — his freedom that was suffocated by the coil of a centipede, the end to his infinite chase after some false sense of strength and dominance, the breaking free of his confinement in that cube labeled “perfection”.

And then he fell. Collapsed into a pile of woods because he landed wrong. A mistake, but, just for that short moment, he didn’t care anymore. His back hit the ground, but it didn’t hurt, probably thanks to the metal frame. Gakushu let his forearm cover his eyes and let out a breathless laugh. What he was laughing about, he had no idea, all he knew was that he was laughing, and the whole E class was staring at him, possibly thinking he was a moron.

It was then that Gakushu had realized, he thought wrong again. Because the E class was now laughing with him, brushing off his failure as if it was something that wasn’t even significant, like it didn’t matter if he failed. 

“Even the perfect Asano-kun has moments like these, huh?” He heard Terasaka exclaiming and a few others agreeing with the statement. For some reason, to Gakushu, the delinquent’s tone of voice didn’t sound the least bit derogatory. It was just, well, an exclamation, like the person who had said it was just genuinely surprised to see something so human happening to someone almost notorious for being too well above average. 

Gakushu didn’t blame him. He himself was surprised by the fall. 

When he removed his forearm from his eyes, he saw Shiota’s hand waiting for his, wanting to help him up. Gakushu ignored it, however. He wasn’t so vulnerable that he couldn’t pull himself up after a fall. Quickly, he hoisted himself up from the ground. But, just as quickly, the wind that followed his action showed him a purple flower blooming on a corner of Shiota’s neck, hidden by his blue hair, and some messily-applied foundation. Instantly, he felt something stopping dead in his system, something that was just dying to confirm his theory about Shiota’s family life. 

And Shiota was looking at him, sky blue intently scrutinizing him, possibly having sensed his realization. 

_Oh, the bruise? It’s nothing, I just.. hit a wall. Yeah, I hit a wall. That’s all there is to it._ The eyes told him.

———

September made the night come sooner apparently, as, when they had reached the gas station, the sky had already turned tangerine. Gakushu pushed open the door to the convenience store and walked in, followed by Shiota, who was intent on helping him with shopping, and Akabane, who had insisted on “chaperoning” his boyfriend until the road split. Annoyed as he was, Gakushu knew that had to bear with them anyway. At least Shiota was being helpful. Akabane was just a handful.

The sky was an even darker orange when they had gotten out of the convenience store, with Gakushu holding a few bag of groceries and Shiota, again, helping out a little. 

“Ah, I must say goodbye to my prince here.” Akabane was dramatic as they reached the road split. He hoarded the slightly blushing Shiota in his arms and deepened the blush with a chaste goodbye kiss on the boy’s lips, much to Gakushu’s annoyance. He intended to walk away, but it seemed like Akabane wasn’t done with him for the day either. “Hey, Virtuoso-kun.” The redhead called.

“I have a name.” 

“You’re done if you have any intentions with my Nagisa-kun.” He stated with a smile on his face. Unlike Shiota’s yesterday, right away, Gakushu could already sense the bloodlust in the smile, a strong intention to do what he had said.

“What? Are you _that_ insecure about your relationship?” Gakushu retorted, grinning back smugly. Akabane’s hand formed a fist next to his thigh, and that was how Gakushu know he had stated the truth. And, fortunately, Shiota was in the middle of the both of them, ready to separate them if anything was to happen.

“O— okay, we need to go now, it’s getting late.” Shiota stammered, then pushed Gakushu to the direction of their building. He turned around, facing Akabane. “See you tomorrow, Karma-kun. Love you.” 

With that, Gakushu walked off, Shiota just next to him. It was silent, but it was the nice kind of silence, the one he felt in the morning as he stood in front of the elevator, and the one he felt as he walked alongside Shiota before they reached the convenience store. Calming and serene, like a peaceful wallflower that no one noticed, but once someone did, they would treasure it forever, because it brought them this tranquility that something more exquisite and noticeable couldn’t. And maybe that was what Akabane had found in Shiota, seeing that their personalities couldn’t be further away from polar-opposites. 

Gakushu decided to break that silence, however.

“Akabane really cares about you, huh?” 

Shiota looked at him.

“Yeah. His personality throws people off a lot, but he’s really nice once you get to know him.” The shorter one said, genuine affection sparkling in his eyes as he thought of his loved one. 

They spent the rest of the walk in that calming quietness again, though Gakushu’s mind couldn’t quite return to that state again now. Unknowingly, they had reached the door to Shiota’s apartment, and it was then that Gakushu had decided to break the silence again. 

“Then why are the both of you still using honorifics?” 

Shiota didn’t answer him, though the slightest flinch of his body had answered the question. Loud and clear. 

The door opened, but neither of them had even touched the handle. The woman he saw with Shiota yesterday — the mother was in front of them. She was truly a beautiful lady, though her eyes didn’t particularly show that beauty. 

They were filled with this oppressiveness that could only remind Gakushu of Mister Principal.

“Oh, Nagisa, welcome home. I see that you’ve finally made friends with someone good for you.”


	4. Time For The Second Day - 3rd Period

The Shiotas’ apartment was quite well-furnished, with white being the main color, mirrors on the closets, and flowers in every corner around the house. Compared to the house he used to live in, the one with dark brown, cream, and black as its main colors, this apartment looked a lot brighter, even though the atmosphere was the same, maybe even heavier. 

“Nagisa, would you go make us some tea?” The woman said with a beaming smile, though all Gakushu could feel from looking at it was this dread that seemed to hang weights on his neck. The addressed boy obediently got to work on the tea, saying nothing in the progress. There were sounds of a tea container being popped open, and water flowing out of the faucet into a pot. The house was dark despite all its lighting, and the curtains were closed briefly, only allowing little bits of that end-of-the-day light inside. 

Gakushu shifted uneasily on the sofa that was supposed to be comfortable, trying to avoid the woman’s gaze, despite knowing that he was the center of her attention. 

“Sorry for the sudden invitation, and I see that you’ve done some grocery shopping?” Shiota’s mother, Hiromi, as she had introduced herself earlier, started. Her voice was soft, much more gentle than the one she used with her son the day before, and that bothered Gakushu somehow.

“Yeah, this living alone thing needs some getting used to. But I can do it in no time.” He answered in that manner he used with adults. It came off as a little too goody-two-shoes for his liking, but he guessed it would be fine, as he still had that reputation of being the stereotypical “good kid that every parent compared theirs to”. 

“You’re quite the independent child, Gakushu-kun. Oh, how I wish my Nagisa-chan could be half as good as you are.” The woman remarked. “Come to think of it though, what made you transfer to such a low class, Gakushu-kun? Surely it must have been a misunderstanding?” She asked as Shiota brought out a steaming pot of tea. He placed the tea pot on the glass table, then started setting up the cups. 

“It’s my father.” Gakushu cringed at the word as it rolled out of his tongue. _Father_. Such an unfamiliar word to address Mister Principal. “He moved me to this class.” He didn’t want to tell her the reason, and he hoped she didn’t ask either. The living room was silent again, and the only sound that echoed through it was the clinking of the ceramic pot as it left the table’s surface. 

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll realize his mistake and transfer you back to the A class soon. After all, you’re a pretty gifted boy, Gakushu-kun. He can’t just let your talents and intellects waste away in the E class, can he?” 

Gakushu didn’t exactly know how to respond to those words. He only nodded, then started watching the brown tea water being poured into the cups in front of him. Moving him back to the A class wouldn’t be something Mister Principal had in mind. After all, they both thought of each other as toys, both wanting to witness the other being submissive to them and suffer. Maybe Mister Principal would move him back, but it would only be when he started losing to the man’s educational system. But Gakushu wanted the opposite. And maybe he could use this E class against Mister Principal’s principles.

The clanking of ceramic contacting glass startled Gakushu before he could start formulating a plan.

After the hot tea had been poured out, Shiota went to sit next to his mother, eyes constantly staring at the floor beneath him, as if he didn’t dare to look up. Gakushu picked up the tea cup by its handle, blowing gently so that it created ripples on the water’s surface and the tea could cool down enough for him to drink. 

“Nagisa-chan, how many times did I tell you?” The woman’s words made Gakushu look up. He saw her hands caressing the hair ties keeping Shiota’s blue locks together. The action made Shiota flinch a little bit. A mother’s seemingly loving eyes turned dull, full of that repressive feeling that made both boys uncomfortable. “Even though the pigtails make you look cute, I still prefer you with your hair down when you’re with me.” She hissed before yanking both hands, effectively pulling the hair ties out, leaving Shiota with his long blue hair draping over his shoulders. 

Gakushu didn’t know how to respond to that either. He eyed Shiota, only to see a troubled gaze looking over to the door, just wanting to escape. He drew his eyebrows together, shocked and not knowing how to get out of the situation for the first time in his life. Even Mister Principal, who had openly trampled over his efforts when he didn’t produce the desired result, had never laid a hand on him, or at least had raised him in a way that gave him the ability to retort back. All he saw in front of him was Shiota being helpless, completely under is mother’s control, unable to fight back. It was as though the boy was some sort of a game character, going where the player wanted, when the player wanted, and had no liberty of choosing his own actions. 

And what was with all these female honorifics? _Nagisa-chan_ this, _Nagisa-chan_ that. And whenever he was called so, Shiota looked so much like he was just going to drop his head and sob his heart out. And Gakushu felt a strange desire to help him, even when he told himself it was none of his business, and that involving himself might make things even more difficult for Shiota. 

“Shiota-san,” he began, feeling the woman’s eyes diverting to his direction. “Why do you keep using female honorifics to address Nagisa-kun?” 

“Of course I have to use these honorifics, Nagisa is like a daughter I never had after all. Right, Nagisa- _chan_?” 

The blue-haired boy nodded, eyes trying to look at anything but his mother. They ended up meeting Gakushu’s own. _Sorry to get you involved in this._ They said. _You shouldn’t have cared. You shouldn’t even know about this. You shouldn’t have to think about my problems, because you’ve already had enough of your own._

“Say, Gakushu-kun, would you mind tutoring Nagisa-chan so that _she_ can return to the main campus quicker?” 

“But mother, I don—“

“Nagisa, we’ve talked about this.”

Shiota went silent. Clearly, the protest was shut down before the mother could even hear the reasoning behind it. Gakushu thought about the sudden offer. Normally, he would simply agree, completely confident in his teaching abilities (as, again, inherited from Mister Principal). Though, how much help would it do to Shiota? Would it just help him study better, or would it have another benefit? Could he help him escape from this troubled home for just some time? 

“Sure thing, Shiota-san.” Gakushu agreed to the offer.

“Thank you so much, Gakushu-kun.” The mother chirped, completely oblivious to the subtle tense expression of her son. Gakushu sighed as he observed Shiota, seeing that the boy was fidgeting around with his fingers out of his unease. He then glanced at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall, and decided that it was time he head back to his apartment.

“Shiota-san, it was nice meeting you. But I need to head back to my house now.” 

Gakushu stood, picking up his groceries on the way, then thanked Shiota’s mother for the tea, doing all that was considered common curtesy before walking out. He could hear the mother telling Shiota to say goodbye to him, and some hurried footsteps toward his direction. He turned around at the door just to see the blue-haired boy, with his hair down, closing the door.

“Sorry for dragging you into this. My mother is quite.. unreasonable at times.” Shiota apologized, smiling shyly as he did so. Gakushu stared at the shorter boy, somehow unable to answer. He reached for the hair ties Shiota had collected in his hands earlier, tying the boy’s hair back into two pigtails, blanking out as he did so. And only after that could he find himself being able to reply to Shiota.

“It’s nothing, Shio— Nagisa-kun.” 

Shiota let out a small giggle, similar to the one he had when Gakushu’s stomach protested that morning. 

“So you still can’t get used to regarding me as a friend.” 

“Says the person who calls me Asano-kun.” 

“Alright then,” Shiota smiled. “How about I call you by your first name, and you’ll call me by mine, no honorifics. It’s a competition to see who gets used to it quicker, _Gakushu_.” 

“You got it, but you know I’ll win, _Nagisa_.”

And as he walked off, Gakushu wondered what had just happened and what that whole competition thing was all about. He had only known Shiota for two days, and they had already started addressing each other that informally. And what about Akabane? Would _he_ mind? Gakushu had had enough troubles already, and didn’t think he could take the redhead’s teasing any time. Though the one thing that Gakushu didn’t get was how Shiota could just nonchalantly do it — attracting people, with little to no intentions with them, at least not bad intentions. 

He closed the door to his apartment, dropping the groceries on the wooden floor and took off his shoes. He took the bags to the kitchen, not forgetting to drop his book bag on the sofa. Gakushu opened the empty fridge and filled it with his groceries. Not much, but that was all the necessities to survive for one month — two litters of milk, bread, a dozen of eggs, some tomatoes, some potatoes, other kinds of vegetables and herbs for meal seasonings, some fruits (and some instant ramen, just in case), all around five thousand yen. He decided to buy the specific meat for the meals according to the day, which, for the night, would be beef round, enough for two, according to his diet, and some asparagus. Not wanting the meat to wait outside for too long, he closed the fridge. In another grocery bag was a bag of rice. Gakushu didn’t always have rice, but he guessed it was also a basic component of a meal, being part of the carb group. Carefully, he snipped the tip of the rice bag and poured its content into a container. There was also a bottle of cooking oil, vinegar, basic seasonings like salt and pepper, and some sauces.

After having put everything in its designated place, all that was left for Gakushu to do was the cooking. He opened his phone and searched for some tutorials, mainly from Gordon Ramsay. There was something fascinating in watching that British man giving instructions on the basis of culinary, as some parts of him reminded Gakushu of a certain teacher. 

He took off his uniform jacket and washed his hands. Starting with the potatoes, Gakushu preheated the oven before taking some of them out of the fridge, washed all the dirt off of them along with the asparagus, and left them to dry on a rack. He prepared the meat, taking each cut out of their respective packaging and seasoned them, just as how it was in the tutorial. Quickly, he oiled a pan and put it on the stovetop, in medium-high heat. As the pan was heating up, he put the now-dry potatoes into a glass casserole and placed them in the oven, not forgetting to set a ten-minute timer. Going back to check the pan, he saw that it hadn’t yet reach the desired temperature. Gakushu filled a pot a quarter of the way with water and set it on another stove in high heat, then looked back at the pan, seeing that it had just reached the perfect heat. He placed the first cut perfectly in the center of the pan and the second one in a tight container, putting it up his freezer, telling himself that he would wake up earlier the next day to prepare his lunch. 

Soon, the cooking process was completed with baked potatoes, steamed asparagus, and medium-rare steak. Gakushu plated his dinner, making it look like some sort of restaurant dish. Satisfied, hesat down at the table, telling himself that he would clean the kitchen utensils when he wash the dishes. 

Knives and forks made clattering sounds as they came in contact with the table’s glass surface. Gakushu cut the meat, revealing the perfect inside. A tiny sense of pride began to bubble in his stomach, and the corner of his lips curved up just a little bit, knowing that this meal was the result of the first time he cooked. Had it happened at that house in the rich’s neighborhood, Mister Principal would definitely have glanced at the dish, indifference still obvious as ever in those eyes that were passed down to him. “You take pride in this?” Mister Principal would say, “I thought you could do better, Asano-kun.”

“Asano-kun.” 

Gakushu was startled. What was that voice? It sounded near, like the person saying it was only on his balcony. But he was on the fourth floor, who could get to his balcony?

“Asano-kun.” 

There it went again. The voice sounded familiar, but he couldn’t quite connect it with anyone he knew. He looked around, trying to find the source of the sound.

Of course he didn’t miss the giant yellow octopus standing outside on his balcony or the way his soft tentacles were trying to knock on the glass door. No, Gakushu was neither blind nor oblivious. He was just pretending that the yellow eyesore didn’t exist.

“You know, sensei gets lonely sometimes too.” Koro-sensei fussed as he slurped some take-out noodles. “That’s why it’s really great to have students who live alone like you and Karma-kun. I can drop by and eat with you guys anytime.” 

Gakushu felt an urgent need to re-evaluate his decisions. How did he even agree to let this octopus in? Despite that, he also couldn’t just leave Koro-sensei outside. As long as he was alive, he was still a state secret. Gakushu knew he would be dead before overthrowing Mister Principal if he let this secret out, and he just couldn’t risk it. He ignored his teacher and resumed eating. 

“So, Asano-kun, what do you think of the class so far?” Koro-sensei asked him, the other yellow tentacles seemed to be doing something behind his back, but they were too fast, Gakushu could barely make out what he was doing. 

Gakushu stuck his fork in a cut piece of steak, picked it up, and brought it up to his mouth. He chewed it, actually enjoying the food. 

What _did_ he think of the E class?

“A bunch of weirdos.” He mused, looking over to Koro-sensei. His new teacher turned to him, but his eyes seemed to be staring at something else. Gakushu stabbed a piece of his steak and dropped it in the drooling octopus’s take-out box. “But I guess that’s what makes them interesting to watch.” Sighing, he continued, cutting the baked potatoes in his process. “Despite that, they’re still below me. I’ve already gone over everything in class a few weeks ago. In fact, I can say that I myself can top everyone in the class in everything.”

Or could he?

“Maybe.. except for Shiota.” Gakushu added, not realizing that he had looked down on his plate until Koro-sensei’s trademark laugh snapped him out of his trance. When he glanced up, his new teacher was jotting something down in a notebook labeled Gossip Book, all the while turning the same pastel pink as when he was reading the magazine. 

“Falling for the forbidden flower, I see.” Koro-sensei mumbled perkily as he scribbled some more in his notebook. Gakushu stood up, walked over, and took a look at the contents of his teacher’s notebook. 

**_Caught in a Love Triangle — A Nagisa, Karma, and Gakushu Fanfiction._ **

_Starring: Nagisa Shiota, Karma Akabane, Gakushu Asano, and The Imperial Prince of Fate of The Eternal Wind._

“Sensei, who is this Imperial Price of Fate of The Eternal Wind?”

“Who else would it be but sensei?”

For what felt like the first time in his life, Gakushu Asano was greatly disturbed. 

As an instinct, he grabbed the nearby knife and stabbed it in Koro-sensei’s tentacle, trying to stop his writing and, efficiently, not remembering that it would have little to no impacts to his teacher. 

“Asano-kun.” Koro-sensei chuckled suddenly, his laugh giving Gakushu goosebumps. “Blushie!” A still-pastel-pink tentacle pointed at his cheeks. Gakushu unconsciously felt his face (despite his disbelief, his skin was actually hotter than he thought it was), and snatched the knife out of his teacher’s tentacle. Strange. Where did the blade go?

“Sensei, what happened to my knife?” He asked, trying to restrain his urge to stab, mainly because it wouldn’t make any difference anyway. 

“Ah, it melted inside my body.” Nonchalantly as ever, Koro-sensei rested the notebook and his pen on the table, continued slurping his noodles. And he was gone the next moment, leaving Gakushu’s dinner table clean as a whistle. He probably realized what he had done, and how Gakushu was going to ask for the knife’s compensation. 

Sighing, Gakushu sat back down on his chair and finished his dinner, sounds of his knife and the plate clanking together again the only things he could hear aside from his thoughts. He guessed having the octopus around might have lightened up the mood a little, despite it being quite frustrating. 

He finished his dinner before he knew it, and stood up, taking his empty dish to the sink. Strangely enough, all his dirty kitchen utensils had already been washed and was drying on a rack, and the floor seemed cleaner than it was when he got back to the apartment. Maybe it was Koro-sensei’s way of compensating for the knife, or maybe his teacher had been cleaning the house for him behind his back earlier. A small huff escaped his nostrils, and a small smile of contentment marred his lips.

His new evening routines weren’t as hard to get used to as he had imagined. With his house already swept and cleaned by Koro-sensei, the only chore for him was washing the one dirty dish left. Afterwards, he decided to do his homework before showering. It was easy enough, and Gakushu managed to do everything in the span of thirty minutes. That was until he read Jelavić-sensei’s homework.

_Flirt with a random stranger online, preferably through text messages. Show the texts to sensei tomorrow._

Nope.

He looked at the time, seven thirty, then headed towards his closet, opened it, and took out his workout clothes — gym shorts and a T-shirt. He changed into them, thinking of a location to practice his precision jumps in the process. Although falling down was a somewhat eye-opening experience for him, it was equally as embarrassing, and he didn’t want it to happen again. 

The park was empty by the time he got there, or maybe he only thought so because that particular area of the park wasn’t taken over by people walking their dogs or old lady groups doing aerobics. He guessed it was a good thing, since he didn’t really enjoy being stared at as he was practicing anyway. 

Gakushu scouted the area, looking for points that he could jump from, and found that the benches were stable despite their looks. If he was careful, he could pull off a jump around that area with the decor boulders and benches without falling.

And he did. Multiple times.

The sense of accomplishment rushed in him again. Gakushu’s breaths were short after the workout, sweat pooled on his skin and made the T-shirt stick to his torso. It was well-deserved effort, however. Plus, he needed to shower anyway, so it probably wouldn’t make a difference to his routines whether or not he went out.

———

Gakushu stared at the reflection he could only see as Mister Principal. He knew seeing it would be inevitable, as he would always had to walk pass the mirror to reach to the shower cabin, yet, he still jumped at the abrupt way Mister Principal’s image replaced his in the reflection. His hands reached up to his cheeks, slapping them to wake himself up. He didn’t have all night.

_You look just like your father, very handsome. I’m sure a lot of girls will swoon at your feet in the future._

The comment came to his mind as he washed his hair. It muted all sounds of water, and made itself his focus. It came from one of the ladies in his previous neighborhood, and Gakushu didn’t like it. He didn’t know why, maybe he just didn’t like the way he was compared to Mister Principal, or the way it made him think of his grown-up version as a carbon copy of the man. Or maybe he just didn’t understand how uninterested he was in the opposite gender, despite having many of them infatuated with him. 

And then there was that moment when Koro-sensei pointed out his blush. Gakushu didn’t know if it was the truth, but from what he had felt earlier, his face did get a little warmer. Whatever that meant.

After showering, he made his way outside to the balcony, as some fresh air might do him some good. His room’s balcony was connected to the living room’s, making it one big terrace. Gakushu looked to the sky, only to find some tiny shining dots that were probably stars and a crescent moon staring back at him — Koro-sensei’s work. He watched as the lights in the surrounding houses switched on and off as their respective owners went through their evening routines. His elbow was set on the balcony, and he was supporting his face with one hand. Gakushu glanced to his left, only to find an empty wall, then to his right, and realized that he wasn’t the only one outside. 

Shiota was standing on his balcony, to the far right. Azure eyes were fixated on the moon, and his hair was let loose, flowing like soft waves as the evening wind blew into it. Gakushu wasn’t conscious of his staring until Shiota came closer to call him.

“Good evening, Gakushu.” It seemed like he had already gotten used to calling Gakushu by his first name. 

“Evening, Nagisa.” Gakushu greeted back. 

“My balcony is linked to living room’s, so I can actually go out here whenever I want.” Shiota informed him. “Like when I feel particularly sad or in need of fresh air and that kind of stuff. Hey, want me to come over?”

Gakushu was surprised by this offer.

“Why?”

“Pretty sure you haven’t finished Bitch-sensei’s homework.” The blue-haired boy giggled at the mention of their teacher’s absurd homework. 

“But isn’t the flirting supposed to happen online?” Gakushu smirked at him, briefly imagining the situation had Akabane been there, then got grossed out by how much more jealous extra PDA would occur.

“It is, I’m going to find a random person online and help you text her.” 

“But how are you goin—“

He didn’t have the chance to finish his sentence, as Shiota had already given out his answer. Gakushu watched as the smaller boy backed down to the far end of his balcony, then ran and jumped on the balcony rail. He did another jump from the rail to Gakushu’s side, his face mere centimeters from the upper floor’s wall, and lost control. He fell down on his back, but Gakushu caught him, his arms supporting Shiota’s back and knee pits, holding him bridal-style. They froze in their place for a moment, trying to understand the situation they were in. Gakushu thought his cheeks got a little warmer, but he wasn’t sure.

“That was a close one,” he laughed, “you can let me down now.” 

Just as casually as every other time, like his life hadn’t just been in danger.

Gakushu let go of the arm supporting Shiota’s knee pits, releasing his legs. The boy got on his feet and started looking around, but Gakushu wasn’t that fast to recover. How could someone who nearly lost his life be so carefree? It was like Shiota wasn’t even aware of the consequences of his actions, or he just didn’t care enough for his life.

“Gakushu, you blanked out again.” Shiota waved his hand in front of Gakushu, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Sorry. So how exactly do you plan to help me with the homework?” 

“Give me your phone.” 

Gakushu walked Shiota inside his room, grabbing his phone on the table as he was going in. They sat on his bed, with Shiota already opening the Facebook app. He quickly opened the Friends Suggestion box and scrolled down as Gakushu watched, actually surprised by the number of unaccepted friend requests he had, and he didn’t even know half of those people. 

“Here, what about her?” Shiota held the phone up to Gakushu’s face. It was the profile of a girl in a different school, from the look of her uniform. She seemed older than them, with her orange hair cut to her chin and a pink hairband. Gakushu looked at her name, Yumehara Chiyo.

“I have no objections.”

Shiota started texting her with Gakushu’s Facebook account (the one he didn’t know he even created), and, slowly, he gave Gakushu control, and only stuck around to give suggestions. 

Despite his constant flirting with the girl, Gakushu found himself having no interest in her.

Time passed faster than he expected, and, by the time they were finished with the girl, it had already been half past eleven. Shiota excused himself, and went back to his house with the same jump that worried Gakushu much more than it did himself. He succeeded, much to their both reliefs, and turned around as he landed.

“See you tomorrow, Gakushu.” He waved before disappearing into the house. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really expect everyone to get the Saiki Kusuo no Sai-nan reference I made in the chapter, but if you do, we're best friends.  
> Seriously though, everyone should watch that anime. It's pure comedy, and the manga actually has two crossover chapters with Assassination Classroom. So yeah, go read the manga too.


	5. Time For The Basics -1st Period

[ _Former Junior Champion Asano Gakushu,_

_It is with the most anticipation and excitement that we would like to announce the beginning of this year’s National Junior Karate Tournament. The National Junior Karate Tournament is an annual event organized by the Japanese Karate Association, where young Karate talents clash with each other in order to find the best. The tournament will take place in fourteen days, starting from late December. Despite that, this tournament will test your strength, skills, as well as stamina, so start your training for it now!_

_We thank you for choosing to participate in our tournament. You can check the schedule_ _here_ _._

_Best of luck,_

**_Nura Matsuta, Chief Director of the Japanese Karate Association._** ]

Even with its brightness dimmed to the lowest level, the screen was still unbearably bright, especially in the middle of the night, when all of his lights were off and he was supposed to be sleeping. The mail’s notification surprised him a little, and he _was_ sure that a little bit of mail-checking before bed wouldn’t do any harm. Gakushu read the email over and over again, making sure not to miss any letter, or any line that told him he was simply a part of a mailing list. Despite his vigorous staring, the contents of the mail didn’t change in the slightest. No doubt, it was addressed to him.

Since when did he sign up for this?

Confusion couldn’t describe his reaction, as it might as well have exceeded that mark right when his eyes landed on the word _Tournament_. The last time he had competed in a Karate Tournament was just the previous year, and, naturally, he had won first place. Since then, however, he didn’t sign up for any of that, as he wanted to focus on his studies. The only athletic competition he had been in the whole year was the bo-tashi game (and the usual tests in PE classes). Unless it was someone else signing up with his name.

Or _for_ him.

And just when Gakushu thought he was a bit freer, Mister Principal’s shadow towered over him once more, cunningness glinting from his cold eyes that knew how to sneer. 

_You should be able to take care of both the second semester finals and this tournament, correct, Asano-kun?_

“Fine then, _Mister Principal._ ” Gakushu hissed bitterly despite the smirk on his face, “I’ll demonstrate to you my abilities, once and for all.”

———

Shiota had already been waiting outside when he opened his door. Despite his familiarity with Shiota’s first name, Gakushu still mentally addressed him using his family name. He didn’t know why, maybe it was just something he did. The blue-haired boy looked like how he did every other morning during the short period of eight days Gakushu had known him for. His blue hair was tied into two pigtails, that same sleeveless vest hugged his petite figure, and the pants were still too baggy and long for his legs. His face looked happier than he did on the second day Gakushu met him, and that sight alone brought a rush of warmth to Gakushu’s chest, which he had, on one particular windy day, dubbed as serenity. A hazy sense of assurance that could only be found near a small, plain wallflower. 

“Morning, Nagisa.” He told Shiota, his eyes discreetly scanning the shorter boy’s face for vicious purple flowers. It was one of his new-formed routines, and one he could never really share with anyone. But it wasn’t like anyone knew his everyday habits anyway (maybe except for a certain octopus-like creature who visited him every now and then). 

They walked next to each other, neither of them saying a word, as the sun was in the midst of its journey from the horizon to the sky. Gakushu didn’t think he would like mornings this much more than he already did, despite being an all-around morning person. Maybe it was because the mornings he spent at Mister Principal’s house were dark and gray, even when the sun tried its best to shine its light on everything. He snuck a glance at the person walking beside him, but Shiota’s eyes were only ever focused on what was in front of him, and all Gakushu could see was his silky blue hair. 

Gakushu thought that he was fond of the silence, of the way the near-winter breeze blew through his hair, and of the fact that there was someone walking by his side to school now. But once they reached that convenience store, or even just that road split, every of those pleasant feelings would stop, as the wallflower he had by his side was only borrowed (maybe even stolen), and its owner was a red devil who also needed the beautiful calmness to sooth whatever it was raging inside him.

It didn’t take them a lot of time to arrive at the convenience store, as the both of them had now been accustomed to this fixed routine of walking to the train station, and taking that train to school along with two other people. The redhead noticed them right away and waved at them with his free hand. His other hand held a carton of strawberry milk he had been sipping on earlier, and on his mouth was that usual lazy smirk. 

“Karma-kun really likes things strawberry-flavored.” Shiota’s comment made Gakushu glance up at the addressed boy. It was true, as Akabane was always seen with something strawberry-flavored, like those Meiji strawberry chocolates or something from the au lait drink series of the same brand. 

“Maybe it has something to do with his hair.” Gakushu replied once he took the fiery color of Akabane’s hair into account. It made Shiota giggle a bit before he ran towards Akabane, literally suspending himself on the taller boy’s neck like an instant addition to his outfit, and Gakushu almost made a resolve for himself to think of more jokes regarding Akabane’s hair.

Gakushu approached the couple, greeting the ignored Sugino as he stood a distance from Akabane and Shiota. They had always been like that, maybe even more so lately, as Gakushu could clearly sense some kind of bitter possessiveness flashing in the mercury eyes, despite how much the redheaded boy tried to hide it. Like he was afraid something, or someone, might take Shiota — someone who was so undeniably his — away. Like he had too little faith that their relationship would actually work.

There were, undoubtedly, times when Gakushu didn’t understand anything. That first sentence Mister Principal had taught him was once. He understood it now, but back then, he had absolutely no idea why “I am strong and everything is in my control” was something so significant that he was made to repeat it times and times before bed, until he had unknowingly said it in his sleep during the school trip, nearly freaking out Ren in the process. 

The second time he could recall finding himself not understanding anything had just happened, when his shoulder bumped into Koyama’s, and he found himself being blocked by the now-Four Virtuosos. 

Gakushu glanced behind him, finding his three companies as confused as he was. It had been a week since he had last seen these four, and he guessed nothing had really changed for them, except that he wasn’t one of them anymore. He glared up, only to have his eyes meeting three other pairs — Seo’s, Koyama’s, and Araki’s. It was disgust again, the look on their faces, as if they were looking at dirt. Gakushu didn’t want to understand why they turned their backs against him so quickly, but he did, and he wasn’t proud that he did. People naturally abandon their leaders once that sense of authority was no longer there or had been ripped away, and his case was no exception.

Really, Gakushu accepted it as something unavoidable. He just didn’t think it would ever happen to him.

“You’re getting used to the loser class so quickly, Asano-kun.” 

“Really, now, Asano-kun, even going to school with them?

“Where did that proud Gakushu Asano go, I wonder.”

As of that moment, all Gakushu could see was a pack of rabid dogs running back to bite their owner. It was to be expected, though he didn’t think there would be something pricking at his guts, clenching his insides, and making him wish he could just teleport straight to that old beaten-down school building lying on top of a mountain. He didn’t stop eyeing them, because to remove his gaze from them would mean to accept his defeat. Instead, the amethyst eyes started scrutinizing them, going from person to person, and when they stopped at Ren, Gakushu was struck with surprise. The Council secretary’s eyes were much softer than the rest of the Virtuous Four, filled with something that seemed.. apologetic.

“Heh? So the Virtuous Four has nothing to do other than disturbing students now that their leader’s gone?” Akabane’s signature smug voice broke the tense staring contest between the school’s elites and their ex-leader.

“Karma-kun.” From the corner of his eyes, Gakushu could briefly see Shiota tugging at his boyfriend’s sleeve, trying to pull him out before he started a fight. Akabane turned to the blue-haired boy next to him, his gaze immediately turning softer. 

“Don’t worry, Nagisa-kun, I’ll only talk this time. I promise.” He cooed reassuringly. 

The redhead glanced up then, his chin in the air, looking down on the school’s best students. He held Shiota’s palm in one hand, the other waved Sugino, signaling him to come along, then grabbed Gakushu’s arm and dragged him away with a low “Come on” before he could protest. They marched pass the road-blockers so casually it seemed like a routine, and Akabane let Gakushu go once they were some steps ahead of the group of elites, though his other hand still had a hold of Shiota’s. He turned around.

“Stay out of our way and find some other hobbies, pathetic shitheads. We’re almost late for school, what about you? Surely the school’s elites must care about that matter as well?”

With that, they walked away. 

Gakushu didn’t necessarily know what had been going on, and could only process the ordeal when they were halfway up the mountain. They didn’t talk about it either, and maybe the reason was that these kinds of encounters were regular happenings, only Gakushu was fairly new to the harassment from students in the main campus.

“We’re on the same boat now. It’s going to get much worse in the assemblies, and who knows what other kind of bullshit they can think of. Remember that this class has your back now that you’re a part of it, no matter how stuck-up you may be. So please, do me a favor and protect Nagisa when I’m not there. That’s all I want you to do in return for earlier.”

That was what came out of Akabane’s mouth when he held Gakushu back at the train station. His voice was dropped to a low demand that almost went unheard, but there certainly was a kind of determination in his statement about Shiota. Gakushu had wanted to tell to him that he wouldn’t want any harm done to that serene blue wallflower, the only good thing that had ever happened to the both of them, but he guessed he had wanted to keep that analogy to himself, (or maybe he was just perplexed at the lack of honorific when Shiota was mentioned) and didn’t say anything back. They caught up with the other two after that, pretending that they had both needed the restroom. 

Gakushu had kind of wanted to stay in the train station for a little longer, and the others appeared to agree with him, because sitting right there in the middle of the forest was their teacher, the entirety of his skin turning the shade of pink that had now been associated to perversion by the whole class. His right arm-tentacle was holding something that resembled a pen, moving vigorously through the pages of a notebook. Koro-sensei sat on a mat, and surrounding him was a stack of notebooks. From the look of it, their teacher was probably writing something rather unsuitable for a school setting.

Glancing to his right, Gakushu could already see Shiota and Akabane drawing their knives out. Sugino’s face darkened from what would be labeled bloodlust as he pulled a handgun out from his book bag. The three of them hid behind the trees, looking over to the clearing where their teacher was sitting. Gakushu also fetched a gun from inside his bag and joined them, the amount of time he had spent around the E class had taught him to always bring an anti-sensei weapon, as Koro-sensei could appear anywhere, at any time, and that could be anyone’s opportunity to assassinate him. 

Shiota stared intently at the pink creature, from his normally innocent azure eyes glinted the immense bloodlust he had been unknowingly concealing. He signaled with his hands, telling them at which point their teacher’s focus was at its peak. Akabane pointed the other three to their positions, even though Gakushu had wanted for himself to be doing these things, as he was perfectly capable, but, in these kinds of circumstances, he guessed it would be best to let the people with experience do it.

The moment he took his first step, however, Koro-sensei disappeared from his spot. Smoke came from his previous position, indicating that he had moved at his speed of Mach 20. The four of them turned around, only to see a smug-looking tentacle creature and all of their weapons retrieved and wrapped inside a towel.

“Sensei, is that a towel from the boys’ PE storage room?” Sugino’s face went blank, appearing even more disturbed than how he was when he spotted the pink tentacle creature in the middle of the forest. The towel must have triggered some bad memories.

“Yes, sensei did retrieve it from the PE storage, but it’s only because I couldn’t think of any other place with big enough cloth.” Koro-sensei answered him, and Sugino looked even more disturbed. “And I _would_ like to go into the girls’ storage, but that’s too indecent of an act for a teacher. I might get my salary cut if the principal finds out, and I’ve been living on ramen for the past month.”

That was a lie, Gakushu knew it, as he had definitely seen the octopus slurping on take-out Chinese food the other day.

“Terasaka wiped his crotch on that towel. He never washed it.” Akabane filled their teacher in with what Sugino couldn’t bear to inform. 

“Oh, is that so?” The stripes on Koro-sensei’s face disappeared. His skin turned gray. His wide smile disappeared, leaving behind a poker face. He set the towel neatly on the forest floor, his arm-tentacle patted the cloth, and he looked away like he had never seen it before. 

Gakushu had never seen that kind of face before. 

“Anyway, Asano-kun?” Their teacher’s face quickly turned normal as he called Gakushu. 

“Yes, sensei?”

“Do you know why your attempt earlier failed?”

Gakushu thought for a moment.

“Because you were too fast. No matter how we shoot or attack, we’ll still miss you.” He replied, but Koro-sensei’s face turned purple, a big X in a bright red was on his face.

“Incorrect.” The teacher told his student. “It’s because of the way you walk. It was too loud, and I could detect your footsteps right away. Did Karasuma-sensei teach you the special walk? It’s one of an assassin’s, and this class’s, fundamental knowledge. I heard he was going to teach you the basics?”

“I told Karasuma-sensei I didn’t need those kinds of trainings. I’m skilled in martial arts, I can handle matters in my own way.” Crossing his arms in front of his chest, Gakushu explained. Another X appeared on Koro-sensei’s face.

“Wrong answer again, Asano-kun. No matter how skilled an assassin may be, he still needs to learn the most fundamental lessons on how to do a certain thing. And I am here to teach you that, help you build a steady ground so that, from there, you can develop as an individual.” An arm-tentacle was put on Gakushu’s head, patting his head with so much care. So much gentleness. Something he had never seen in Mister Principal, to whom he was just a student.

In a brief moment, he finally felt like a son.

“So this assassination is a lesson?” He asked Korosensei as the arm-tentacle left his head. His teacher’s face had gone back to its normal yellow color.

“Every assassination is a lesson, Asano-kun, whether it be for me or for you guys, or for both sides. Every failed attempt is something that you gain experience from, and from which slowly find out the correct way to achieve your goals.” 

Gakushu didn’t know what to think for a short while. His first lesson from Koro-sensei stemmed from his failures, but it wasn’t like anything he had expected from these kinds of lessons. Instead of the harsh words that would weigh him down more than gravity (what he would never, in a million years, admit to have felt), he had an arm-tentacle gently patting his head, small, round eyes looking straight at him (warmly, and definitely not that piercing gaze of Mister Principal), and a wide smile that could only look so kind (despite it having looked smug just moments earlier).

Unbeknownst to them, Akabane had stalked away to the pile of notebooks Koro-sensei left on the forest floor. 

“Sensei, I wonder what could you have been writing earlier that was so perverted you turned pink?” He hummed, picking up one of the notebooks. “Hmm? Caught in a Love Triangle, volume two?” His eyebrows furrowed as he read what was written on the outside cover.

Gakushu choked.

In an instant, Koro-sensei appeared next to Akabane, all of the notebooks had been taken, the one on the redhead’s hand included, and held as a stack in Koro-sensei’s tentacles. The forgotten two, Shiota and Sugino, approached their teacher, each standing on their tiptoes to try to see the suspicious notebooks, but Koro-sensei had hidden them in the mat he sat on earlier. 

“Sensei, were you writing a love story?” Akabane asked, putting a hand on his chin, looking like he was speculating something, and Gakushu choked again, all the while feeling that weird heat crawling up his cheeks. It had been a week, Koro-sensei should already have forgotten about that fan fiction he was writing.

“Well, if I have to admit it, then yes.” The octopus gave his answer, and Gakushu wanted to stab him repeatedly until he turned into mush despite the earlier heartwarming moment. “I’ve been staying up all night the past week to write it you know. The writer’s blocks keep stopping me from writing, but I’ve finished chapter one hundred and fifty four now, forty five more chapters to go.” 

“Sensei.”

“Yes, Nagisa-kun?”

“If you have that many ideas, you should write for the author of this story. She’s dying from writer’s blocks.”

“Nagisa-kun.. don’t just go and break the fourth wall like that.” Sugino commented, unaware that he, himself, was also breaking the fourth wall.

———

After spending a week with class 3-E, Gakushu had learnt some more things — Kayano bore an endless animosity against overly-developed chests, Kataoka apparently attracted more women than men, Isogai was an all-around ikemen, Koro-sensei had a natural weakness for women’s cleavage, Chiba and Hayami shared a weirdly ambiguous relationship, and Akabane and Nakamura had a sick obsession with crossdressing Shiota. 

If he hadn’t taken time to get used to the E class’s shenanigans, he would have described the day as weirdly eventful. No, scratch that, Gakushu was still unused to these daily antics, still finding them too remarkably extraordinary, to say the least. Bitch-sensei (he had picked that up after the whole class, as, for a few days after his first, he had to admit that she was, well, a bitch) had apparently learnt her lesson and started wearing less suggestive clothes to school, although she still stuck around Karasuma-sensei during lunch, clearly bugging the shit out of him. But Gakushu guessed that was better than the constant public display of affection of Akabane and Shiota, who had been pulled down to sit on the latter’s lap countless times. 

Gakushu decided to stay behind, denying Shiota’s offer to walk home with him and a certain jealous redhead. It wasn’t really that he didn’t want to suffer from Akabane’s relentless provocations. He had his own reasons. 

The sunset dyed the hallway with a hazy shade of orange, finally signaling the coming of the end to a person’s day. Gakushu sighed heavily as he stopped in front of the faculty room’s door, hesitating as he was about to knock on the wooden surface. His eyebrows were drawn together, again emphasizing that scowl he was described (by Ren) to always have on his face. Did he really need this? Amethyst eyes focused on a point in front of him, though his mind had wandered off to a completely different territory. He knew perfectly well why he stopped himself from knocking, but he just couldn’t understand the way his mind worked. He needed this if he wanted to beat Mister Principal’s challenge, yet, something in his chest kept his knuckles frozen, hovering dangerously close to the door, just barely touching it, like if he knocked, a grenade inside him would be triggered, and seconds later, there would be pieces of Gakushu Asano on the walls of the E class’s building.

Maybe it was a matter of pride.

_There was no way Gakushu Asano, one of the Five Virtuosos, was going to stick around in the End Class long enough to learn the basics._

That was what he had thought on his first day in the E class, in that very PE class where he had his ass handed to him by Shiota, who he pretty much looked down on, much like the rest of the class.

Now, if he was asked about the amount of time it would take to change a person, he would say eight days, in a condition that would involve a small, blue, bruised wallflower and a yellow tentacle creature.

_No matter how skilled an assassin may be, he still needs to learn the most fundamental lessons on how to do a certain thing._

_Fine then, Koro-sensei._ Gakushu knocked on the door, each time made his heart inexplicably beat faster in his chest. It wasn’t out of affection for the person behind the door, he knew that for sure. Maybe it was because of the ever-present self-esteem inside of him, or maybe it was the irrational fear of humiliation — the ruining of the perfect image he had built for himself — only because he finally admitted that he needed the basic lessons. Despite all that, he kept knocking, calling the government agent behind the door in the process.

“Yes, come in.” Karasuma-sensei told him, and Gakushu slid the door open, revealing a man in black staring intently at his latop. The man looked up at him. “Asano-kun? You should be heading home by now.” 

“Karasuma-sensei, I have a proposal to make.” Gakushu took a deep breath before continuing. “I’d like you to be my personal trainer. Principal Asano— my father has signed me up for a Karate tournament that will take place in December. I—“ He swallowed. The proud lion inside of him roared and scratched and bit, not wanting him to accept his defeat, but he kept going. “I need the basic lessons in order to win.”

He could envision a certain octopus-like creature smiling with an O on his orange face, saying, “Correct answer, Asano-kun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is going to be a short-ass one, I think. And yes, Nagisa and Sugino did break the fourth wall. That's one of my attempts at comedy, since I still have to keep with the overall atmosphere of the anime.


	6. Time For The Basics - 2nd Period

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait and the short chapter.

Gakushu twirled the green rubber knife in his hand, leaned against the wall and watched as Karasuma-sensei set up the targets. It was getting too dark to practice anything outside, so they decided to clear up the large storage room and use it as a temporary gym. The lights were all turned-on, shining down from the ceiling in too-bright white beams.All doors were closed, blocking the wind from the outside and possibly anyone who wanted to intrude (a yellow three-meter tall octopus for example). 

The government agent took off his black suit jacket, loosened his tie, and rolled up his sleeves. Gakushu stood straight, his back leaving the sturdy wall. He approached the table a few meters away from the targets, where Karasuma-sensei was standing, waiting. 

“One of the first things you need to understand in knife fighting is how to hold the knives.” He instructed as his hand held out the knife. “Typically, there are two ways to hold a knife, the forward grip,” he showed Gakushu his hold of the knife, “and the reverse grip.” Skillfully, Karasuma-sensei switched his grip. The blade now pointed towards the ground, and the edge of the blade was facing his arm. “However, depending on the way in which you use your knife, the methods will vary. For example, a machete can be held in a different way from a throwing knife. In this assassination, the E class is provided with army-style knives, and I am, therefore, teaching you how to use it.” 

Gakushu’s eyes followed every of his teacher’s movements as he walked to the center of the room. 

“First, let’s see how you attack me.” The government agent stood straight despite his (or, rather, what Gakushu could hear as) challenge, and his face was still stoic. His fingers wrapped around his knife’s handle. Steady. The blade pointed at Gakushu, calling for his attack. “It’ll be a waste of time if I teach you what you already know.”

Holding the knife in the reverse grip, Gakushu lowered his stance. He slowly stalked about his opponent. Defensive. A little annoyed by how casual Karasuma-sensei was looking despite the spar that was about to happen. His teacher’s expression was its usual unreadability, but maybe it was because he didn’t find any danger in combatting Gakushu, or maybe because he had gotten too used to the fights that had made him this way. Hard as steel. 

Gakushu had once, when he was five years old, wanted those tough eyes of a soldier, instead of his genetic amethyst ones that would later on stare into people’s souls.

He watched his teacher closely, still calculating in his head how each move of his would play out — what questions his knife would ask, and how Karasuma-sensei would fight back — what answers would be given out. He circled the man. Step by step. Careful. His heart beat with anticipation. Adrenaline rushed in the blood vessels that circulated his body. As if he were in a real fight. Because he knew Karasuma-sensei wasn’t an average person who would be terrified. Because, in the mirror just behind his teacher, his reflection morphed into that of Mister Principal. And Gakushu thought that that was who he would be against.

He charged at the man with calculated moves, switching directions abruptly to confuse his opponent. He couldn’t see the mirror anymore, but it didn’t matter. His mind had concluded the identity of his enemy long before his eyes did. He struck. An amateur-looking diagonal slash from the bottom right to top left. The attacked man did not flinch. Quickly, he dodged the blade. His left hand grabbed at Gakushu’s arm that was still moving forward, ready to push him out of the way as a defense. 

The rubber knife was dropped from Gakushu’s right hand, and his left briskly caught it. He thrusted it up, but missed his target. Karasuma-sensei had thrown him out of the way. 

“To think of doing that is clever,” His opponent commented, approaching, still with that casual posture, like fighting against someone else was no difficult task. “However, you still have to take into account the grip of your shoes on the ground and the strength of the hand you’re passing the knife to. Had it been me, I would’ve initially held the knife with my less dominant hand, and pass it to my dominant one. Like this.” The man demonstrated, still heading towards Gakushu as he hoisted himself up from the ground, moving, again, into a defensive stance. 

All he could see then was Mister Principal. Sneering. Mocking his failures. 

So he attacked again. 

“You shouldn’t extend your arm all the way! That would leave it vulnerable for attacks!” Karasuma-sensei shouted over the fury of slashes. No one listened. 

Gakushu kept stabbing. Blindly. Like an untamed animal biting back at its trainer for the painful whips. All sounds were buzzed out, and all visions became blurred lines. The white lights came to his eyes as flashes. The moving man had completely been replaced. All he was chasing were the sinister wine-colored eyes that resembled his so much it pained him, and the glare in those exact eyes— the glare that reminded him he was only a robot, working to produce the perfect results. Gakushu gritted his teeth, his body heavy, as if chained down. He felt gears of a machine replacing his insides, like if someone turned some knobs and pushed some buttons, he would automatically stop. But he barged forward, the knife rapidly cutting through the air around him. He just wanted to hit that target.

And he did. 

The tip of the rubber knife curved over as it is pressed to a clothed chest. Gakushu stopped, just in time to hold himself from collapsing to the ground. Labored breaths overtook his body, not out of physical exhaustion, but something else. Something that wore him out even more than the exertion. 

“Asano-kun, is something the matter?” Karasuma-sensei asked him, clearly having noticed the animosity that still lingered in his eyes. 

“Nothing, I’m just— I guess I’m a little stressed.” He answered, mentally choking himself for how unconvincing he sounded. But Karasuma-sensei only sighed. Gakushu guessed he had lied well enough. Or maybe his teacher just chose to let this one past.

The room went silent, with the only sound filling it being Gakushu’s ragged breaths. Slowly, he composed himself and loosened his grip on the knife. His gasps for air decreased, his breathing evened out, and the reflection in the mirror went back to being himself. 

“Although it is good to have bloodlust in your attacks,” Karasuma-sensei began once he was sure his student had had enough rest, “the force that drives you to strike earlier wasn’t the same bloodlust class 3-E possesses. If this class shares one thing, that thing is bloodlust. Their knives and guns will point at their targets with a desire to kill. To me, your attacks earlier didn’t show the same intentions. When you attacked, it felt as if you were just fighting back something, retaliating because you have no other choice.”

———

They ended up staying until some time around seven, when all streetlights were turned on, one after another like rows of fireflies. Gakushu didn’t necessarily enjoy the late train ride back to the city, but his other choices were either a taxi or Karasuma-sensei’s car, provided by the government. It wouldn’t be too beneficial for his pocket to go home by taxi, and it would be quite hard to explain if some lady from his building saw him going with a government official. He only chose the most beneficial option. 

To him, the evening streets turned out to be much more different from those of the morning. For once, there wasn’t that particular blue-haired boy walking beside him, or that eager redhead who was a little too protective of his boyfriend, or even the baseball freak, who only joined them on some days. The early dews weren’t in the air, and what clung to his skin were the tiny dust blown up from car wheels. He couldn’t imagine anyone being attracted to the cursing, impatient commuters or the smoke from cars that only wanted to hurry home. Gakushu didn’t really prefer evenings, especially since mornings were the times when he was completely at peace. 

Although he really wanted to try eating at the ramen shops that only seemed to be open at night, maybe with a certain person. Because he had been thinking of things to do with that one person for quite some days now. 

Speaking of ramen, Gakushu guessed he would have to settle for it for the night. It was too late to cook anything more decent than instant ramen, and he didn’t think he was in the mood for cooking anyway. 

The building stood tall in front of him, like how it always did when he came back from school, but it wasn’t until that moment that he realized how large it looked. For a short moment, he had wanted to blame some blue-haired boy for grabbing all his attention with the calming aura that only him could give off. The elevator seemed too empty and monotonous. It almost reminded Gakushu of the years he spent in that too-spacious house with nothing but chains. Maybe it was because of the white light’s inability to create vibrant colors, or maybe it was the absence of some elements that could only be found in mornings. 

When Gakushu exited the elevator, he saw a pair of mother and son standing in front of his door. 

Impatient. That was how the mother looked. The son had his azure hair down — mother’s order, Gakushu was sure of that, his face was covered by the curtain of hair, although it was clear that he was staring at the ground, as there were no where else to look. 

“Good evening, Gakushu-kun.” The mother waved at him, grabbing her son’s arm and turned him towards Gakushu. 

“Good evening, Shiota-san.” He nodded at her, “what are you doing here so late?” He then proceeded to take out his key and inserted it into the keyhole, trying to ignore the blue eyes that were fixed to the ground. 

“I want you to tutor Nagisa tonight is all.” The woman answered without hesitation, pulling her son to the front. Her smile was gentle, so, _so_ gentle, as if beams of lights were coming from it, though Gakushu just couldn’t help but shiver at the sight of it. 

The mother placed her hands on both her son’s shoulders, and the gesture seemed intimate enough to hide the slight flinch of the boy, though it wasn’t enough to cover the panic in his eyes. Gakushu turned to them, partially because of common curtesy, but mostly because he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stop himself from looking towards Shiota. 

_So please, do me a favor and protect Nagisa when I’m not there._

Gakushu didn’t need Akabane to remind him that, like he wasn’t going to do so in the first place. 

“Definitely, Shiota-san.” He answered after a while, and the woman’s face brightened up. 

“Thank you so much, Gakushu-kun. Nagisa-chan is lucky to have a friend like you.” She smiled. “Right, Nagisa?” She elbowed the boy standing still in front of her. He bit his lips, begrudgingly nodded. Eyes still fixed to a point below him. 

Satisfied, the woman let go of her son’s shoulders, telling the both of them she would come back later to remind them of the time, in case they got too caught up in studying, because she knew how studious they would be, and disappeared into the apartment with the label _Shiota_. 

Gakushu pushed his door open, waiting for Shiota to come in first before letting himself in. He switched on the lights and gave his eyes time to adjust to the brightness a bit, then got out of his shoes. Shiota seemingly mirrored him, and Gakushu didn’t know if that was because of the effects of his mother, or because there was something else hidden in the big blue eyes. He didn’t want to ask, knowing the other boy probably wouldn’t feel too comfortable with the question. Gakushu knew he could figure out what had happened himself, so he let his eyes trail to Shiota’s neck and arms, finding nothing, for the area of exposed skin was too little. 

When they had settled on the sofa, Gakushu with a searing cup of instant ramen, Shiota’s eyes finally glanced up, and Gakushu took the liberty to tie the boy’s blue hair back up into pigtails, after which tiny bits of gratitude would flash in the blue that reminded Gakushu of the Pacific Ocean. 

“Thank you, Gakushu.” Shiota mumbled.

“For what?”

“I don’t know.”

Gakushu thought he wanted to say thanks to Shiota as well. For being the serenity that he, otherwise, couldn’t have experienced. 

———

“So, to convert from radians to degrees, you multiply the radian by one hundred and eighty degrees over pi.” Slurping on the ramen, Gakushu pointed at the problem. He had tutored before, a lot, in fact, and was completely familiar with teaching and instructing, but he definitely wasn’t used to this, eating and tutoring at the same time. He wasn’t allowed to do that before, but he had no other choice as of now. If he didn’t eat, he would have passed out on the floor half an hour ago. 

“And when we convert from degrees to radians, do we multiply the degrees by pi over a hundred and eighty degrees?” Shiota asked him, jotting down some notes at the bottom of his notebook page. 

“Yes. See, you got this. It’s easy.” 

Gakushu remembered the first semester exam, when the entirety of the A class occupied the school council’s meeting room for a week straight to study. It was when most girls chose to ask him to instruct them privately on certain subjects. To keep up appearances, he agreed to most of them, and oftentimes had to blast out compliments like the ones he had given Shiota, though he didn’t think any of them were as sincere as the three sentences he had just said, as, right after that, the boy had told him to smile more often. 

His smile apparently looked “much friendlier than your [his] everyday scowl or the smile you [he] gave to the students in the main school.”

“Why did you stay behind?” The question caught Gakushu off-guard. It took him a while to understand the situation he was in, and some more time to completely say something coherent.

“I’m having this Karate tournament and I wanted to do extra training with Karasuma-sensei,” was what he intended to reply.

“I had some things to discuss with Koro-sensei, and he held me back a bit,” was what he actually said. 

Gakushu wasn’t scared to tell Shiota that he had accepted basic training, as he was pretty sure he had gotten over his ego dilemma a few hours ago. His problems weren’t the fact that he was training, but rather how supportive Shiota would be. Although his results were acceptable, Shiota needed more time to study to actually get the grades he needed if he wanted to get into top high schools, and therefore didn’t have time to care about anyone’s business other than his own (which he, obviously, had already had a handful).

Shiota didn’t ask him anymore questions, instead just closed his notebook and capped his pen back. Gakushu knew the boy was done with his homework, and was heading home. It was inevitable, the fact that he would have to go back to that pristine house in which the air was dense with expectations. But did he have to go that early? The both of them knew Shiota could stay longer if he wanted.

“Goodnight, Gakushu—“

“Wait.” 

It was unintentional, what Gakushu had done, but, somehow, he thought it was necessary. Maybe one day, when he looked back at it, he would realize that stopping Shiota by grabbing his arm and yanking him back inside (in an overly-dramatic manner) wasn’t particularly the brightest idea he ever had. Although, that day would be in the future.

“Do you want to sleepover sometimes?”

Coupled with a dumb action was almost always a dumb statement. Gakushu's case was no exception. He cringed, but Shiota only smiled politely and carefully took his arm away. 

“Definitely.” 

The door closed. 

What had just come out of his mouth? There were times when a person had to play dumb in order for his or her plan to take effect, though his situation wasn’t anything like that. He didn't need to pretend he was stupid, it was the last thing he would want to do in a situation like that. And Gakushu realized he was great at lying to himself. As much as he had wanted to deny it, the question itself was just plain dumb. 

Why was he fidgeting like this over one boy anyway?

There was a shuffle behind him, a sound of the door being opened and then closed. Gakushu turned around, seeing the gargantuan smile plastered on a yellow octopus’s round face. Instantly, he knew who had taken their sweet time to visit him. Although the breaking and entering seemed a little too casual, and Gakushu thought it had been the hardest thing to keep himself from throwing the cup of ramen at the yellow creature.

“Good evening, Asano-kun.” Koro-sensei’s signature laugh followed the sentence, which Gakushu had registered to be a regular occurrence. “I really miss my students even though we’ve only been apart for several hours, and Karma-kun isn’t home, so I came to visit you.” 

As if Gakushu needed the explanation.

“Sensei, I don’t cook dinner tonight. Go get Chinese food or something.” He said, beginning to clean the coffee table, leaving his ramen cup on the dinner table. 

“Asano-kun, I didn’t come for food.”

The rumbling of Koro-sensei’s stomach had bad-timing syndrome.

It only took a few minutes to boil the ramen, and one more to drain the water, and Gakushu just hoped the hungry octopus had no standards. But then, again, if he left the water in, he would gain himself a chance at assassinating Koro-sensei. Though it wouldn’t be as exciting as assassinating him with the companion of the freak class that Gakushu had somehow gotten accustomed to. He sat down next to the three-meter tall teacher, watching the creature happily slurp the ramen.

“Asano-kun, how’s the tournament’s preparations coming along?” It was a sudden question, and it seemed to Gakushu that sudden questions had been attacking him a lot lately.

“What tournament?”

“The Karate tournament.” Koro-sensei had stopped eating. He turned to Gakushu, then continued, “You’ll be training for it with Karasuma-sensei every Wednesday until late December, right?” 

“How did you know about this, sensei?” Gakushu was surprised, as he had been pretty sure the E class’s building was empty before he mustered up the courage to knock on the wooden door of the faculty room.

“I’m always at the campus until I’m sure that every of my students is safely at home.” The arm tentacle reached for the cup of ramen, and the teacher kept eating. “Are you okay with that though?” 

“With what?”

“Hiding the fact that you’re participating in this tournament from the E class? Although they’re a little weird, they’re extremely supportive of their friends. I can assure you of that.” 

“It’s okay. They don’t need to know. Really, they should focus on their studying instead of cheering me on and things of that kind.” 

Gakushu thought it was a wrong answer, but he was ready for the red X on his teacher’s face.

“I see, the distance is still there.” Koro-sensei didn’t sound like he was disagreeing, and Gakushu was relieved despite that tiny part of him that hoped his teacher would want to contradict him. “Very well then, I will support your decision and give you mental support, as long as you’re insistent with it.” 

The cup of ramen was gently placed on his coffee table, and Koro-sensei had already slid his glass door open.

“Also, Asano-kun.”

“Yes, sensei?”

“I’m surprised that you didn’t tell Nagisa-kun that though. You two seem _very_ close. Especially when a _certain someone_ blushes around the forbidden flower.”

The yellow octopus turned into the perverted pink one. Gakushu threw the ramen cup at his teacher’s general direction. 

The only thing the cup hit was the glass door. The very clean glass door.


	7. Assembly Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok but i was reading the assclass manga and if you look closely, in the first panel of [this page](http://www.mangareader.net/assassination-classroom/93/19) you will see nagisa pinching gakushuu's cheek  
> wtf nagisa? that's not attacking that's just you being cute af  
> also in the manga, i found [this page](http://www.mangareader.net/assassination-classroom/115/9). it takes place at the beginning of the school festival arc, and the first panel is the principal saying, "he will lose all value as a perfect example. if that happens i will appear directly on the scene and bestow my [education] on him." this dialogue coupled with the knowledge of the principal's concept of "ideal education" has lead me to inferring that the principal does indeed, at one point, consider placing gakushuu in the e class. this is probably because he knew how big of a blow something like that would deal to gakushuu's ego and how it would benefit his "lesson" for the main school students about strength, especially when, in kunugigaoka, being transferred to the e class is basically the ultimate form of degradation and humiliation.
> 
> also, i changed the first name-last name order so that the last name would be written before the first name, staying true to the Japanese culture that Assassination Classroom took place in ( so instead of "Gakushu Asano", we have "Asano Gakushu")

“Number twenty-nine, Asano Gakushu-kun!”

“Present!” 

Gakushu came into the conclusion that his “Present!” had gotten louder and a little bit more assertive — some steps closer to sounding like that of a soldier. Maybe, one day, he would (sound like a soldier, that is), though he didn’t really think he wanted that anymore. A voice too rigid might scare away the good things that could only happen to him in this beaten-down building. 

But who knew, really. He could be thinking too hard into this. After all, he didn’t even know anymore how he had gotten himself dragged into this mess.

“Now that everyone is gathered, we will be walking to the main campus,” Karasuma-sensei announced, handing Bitch-sensei his clipboard, where the students’ names were checked off in his list. Their blonde teacher held the hard plastic panel against her chest, confused, having no idea what to do with it beside, well, holding on to it. Akabane joked that his teacher clutching the clipboard to her chest might have been her best move yet, because it would do a good job in saving humanity from them. Gakushu, for once, found himself agreeing with the redhead.

“Karasuma-sensei!” Okano chirped. “Can we parkour to the main campus?”

For a moment, excited chatters rose from the crowd of students, agreeing to the idea. Kurahashi even suggested that they played Cops and Robbers on their way (the game that Gakushu had somewhat got accustomed to), and most of the others’ contributions to the fun were received positively by the class, except for Okajima’s — to parkour half-naked — for which he was rewarded with a brief beating from the girls. 

It really fascinated Gakushu how far the E class had gone. Just the beginning of the year, the mere mention of the main campus — the discrimination and humiliation — was enough to devastate the entire class, and now it was talked about casually as ever. He remembered the heaviness that plagued the faces of the E class when they stood in that straight line during the first assembly, and compared it to the beaming expressions of those exact same people in front of him right at that moment.

So many changes had taken place in less than one year. Was it all thanks to the octopus?

“You may go to the main campus however way you enjoy, as long as you arrive safely and look presentable,” Karasuma-sensei concluded after a short while of considerations. The authoritative voice shook Gakushu and interrupted his train of thoughts, but he didn’t want to think any deeper anyway.

They started trudging down the hills. Some of them began jumping through the forest of the mountain, passing from tree to tree, chasing after one another in the best version of a game of catch. For a moment, Gakushu himself felt like joining, but refrained, knowing that arriving at school full of sweat wouldn’t exactly work with what he wanted to convey to the whole school — nothing changed even if he was pushed down to class E. Instead, he walked alongside the two teachers, trying not to mind their conversation and avoid the snakes and scorpions that crossed his path the ground every now and then. 

“Tell me again why we’re doing this?” 

Bitch-sensei let out a lengthy groan, stretched her back, and almost tripped on a snake. The high heels she had been having on didn’t help with her situation — trekking in a difficult terrain — at all. Eventually, she took them off, walking barefooted as she continued to ramble on about the road and how much it would damage her feet. Gakushu wanted to parkour away, but that would only contradict his previous resolve. 

“Once a month, the main campus holds an all-school assembly, and the E class is obligated to join to receive notices from the school or information on new events.” Karasuma-sensei explained, but it seemed like Bitch-sensei had already heard this, and was only complaining just for the sake of it. Turning around and keeping his cold demeanor despite the wails, he pointed his finger at the direction of the classroom building. “It will be a long way back, but if you want to, you can. I already told you that this was not something you needed to attend. It was your choice to go in the first place.”

“You’re so mean! Who in the world makes a woman walk by herself in a dangerous forest— “

Gakushu tuned the rest of the conversation out, and, instead, focused on the road. Many of the E class’s members were already ahead of him, and chances were they would arrive at the school within a few minutes. There was still plenty of time for them to cool down and fix their attires before the actual assembly began, meaning he would still be able to look proper despite previous intense physical activities. Gakushu stopped and examined his surroundings. It would take the whole lunch break to go to the main campus on foot, so Gakushu picked up his speed, leaving behind his two confused teachers. He loosened his tie and moved forward until everything he saw was a blur, then began jumping up, landing on top of the nearest tree. He kept at it, maneuvering around the forest almost with grace and soon surpassing some of the class members. Something akin to adrenaline was being pumped through his whole body, but, for one reason or another, it didn’t feel the familiar. It was nothing like the excitement he felt every other time he performed these jumps, and was just plain strange, in a bad way. 

Gakushu didn’t like it.

Swiftly, like the thoughts in his head, he moved through the forest, to the open area where a colossal school building stood. He sped up some more, approaching the school as his heart thrummed in his chest, almost as if he was entering an arena. The thought of stepping foot in that gate again churned in his stomach, pushing him to move like something, some _presence_ he hadn’t felt for weeks was chasing after him, looming over his new life and hell-bent on dragging him back to his old one.

— — —

He never hated gossips as much as he did now.

It was clear who the topic of conversation was. About everyone not standing in the neat line of class E spoke in quiet whispers as they addressed the elephant in the room. The fact that they were still murmuring was enough proof that Gakushu still had some influence over them. Although, he lamented, that power will fade away soon enough the moment those students realized that Asano Gakushu, leader-turned-lowlife, was restricted by the same rules he once adored and used to his very advantage. 

Really, he had to thank Kanzaki for proposing to switch places. Who knew what kind of attention he would bring onto himself standing at the end of that line? 

Not him, evidently, and he wasn’t that eager to find out either. 

“I heard the Principal almost disowned him or something.” 

Gakushu barely concealed an eye twitch. Whoever said that was telling the truth, although it really was distasteful to talk about him as if he didn’t exist in the same space. He glared at the direction of the sound. The chattering group noticed and hurriedly scrambled away. 

He wanted to utilize the remnants of his authority as much as he could before they all imploded and he had nothing left.

Gazes shot at his direction, but Gakushu was already used to being watched. People often observed those better than them, Argus-eyed, trying to find exposable weaknesses or openings. Still, this particular kind of watching was different, less jealousy and more curiosity, soon-to-be-patronization.

He thought at least that was better than pity. Anything was better than pity.

Most of class E’s students were still rather animated despite their current restrictions. Gakushu smiled and huffed out a chuckle, knowing that somewhere in this auditorium, maybe even right behind them, a teacher or two had witnessed this outright violation of social norms and got offended by it. 

Petty satisfaction feels good sometimes, if not all times.

The auditorium began to quiet down, students rushed around to find their lines and positions. Whatever it was that had been gossiped about changed into academic subjects. It was amusing, though almost too quick if Gakushu were to put his keen observations into use. Something didn’t feel right with the atmosphere, and if it came down to him, he would definitely say the auditorium felt suffocating instead of depressing as per usual. There was something more to this assembly than those that preceded it, which was why, after much consideration, Gakushu came up with the conclusion that perhaps it was just that he, a generally important person, now attended the school as a student of the E class, or, in short, a “weakling”.

And as he looked about, searching for more possible explanations, Gakushu’s gaze stumbled on the answer.

It was like the introduction of a movie villain. All the clues pointed toward that direction even though nothing looked the least bit wrong. The man walked in with long, powerful strides, clutching a tablet under his left arm, his right waving politely at those that bow at his feet. A neatly ironed suit, slick-back hair, and the golden sawtooth leaf pin on his tie. He flashed the world a charismatic smile, then showed them his piercing violet eyes that came with the coil of a monster centipede. 

All in all, Mister Principal was a dangerous man.

“Good afternoon to all,” said the voice over the microphone. It didn’t yank Gakushu back to reality any more than the appearance of Mister Principal. To have his defeat broadcasted around the school and made a joke out of may be detrimental to his ego, but the awareness that the very cause to that defeat was present in this space just to rub it more in his face somehow felt so much more insulting.

Mister Principal then met his glare and raised an eyebrow. 

_You’re supposed to be paying attention, aren’t you, Asano-kun?_

Gakushu hated the way that name sounded in his head, spoken so naturally one might believe it was second nature. It was his name, but it also wasn’t. Asano was his name, and Mister Principal’s name, and grandfather and great grandfather’s name. It was something passed down, some general term that grouped him together with Mister Principal because they had the same blood running in their bodies. 

“..And with that, we conclude the school’s agenda for next month, which, I believe, involves all midterms schedules. Now, let us have a moment of briefing since our school, as we all know, aside from academic achievements, also values its students’ well-being.”

There was an invisible spotlight that had started moving. Gakushu knew where it was going. Everyone did, but pretended that they didn’t anyway. It would better facilitate the dramatic reveal — the turn of events that surprised no one because everyone already knew about it beforehand. The power of gossip, truly, was impressive. He ignored a patronizing look from the faculty and returned Shiota’s concerned glance with his own that he hoped look a little bit reassuring. 

~~ (Kayano sent a worried gaze his way as well, though there was this strange twitch on her face that didn’t quite look like what his brain tried to convince him to see. Gakushu filed this information away.) ~~

“As you may have heard, class 3-A has recently suffered a great loss now that its ex-Class Rep, Asano-kun has fallen from grace and landed in the hell of class 3-E.”

Gakushu found every word in that one sentence to be untrue, though his major focus was on the way they addressed him. Asano-kun, a younger Asano Gakuho. In their eyes, he was only that — the Genetic General, they said, who inherited the entirety of his Father’s virtues and had none of his own.

“Asano-kun has displayed dishonorable and unvirtuous behaviors, and has, therefore, been demoted to the E class.”

All at once, Gakushu was struck by an urge. 

He didn’t know what it was, probably couldn’t slap a name on it if he tried, despite his extensive knowledge of the Japanese language, of any language in the world. It didn’t feel like bloodlust, at least not the kind he was kindling and learning to master in the E class. In this moment, all that Gakushu was aware of was his name. _His_ name, not Mister Principal’s. Gakushu, not Asano.

He wanted to get rid of “Asano”, terminate it, burn it at the stake if he had to, wanted to run on the stage and steal the microphone and announce that he was dropping his name, that from now on, he would only be “Gakushu”. 

— — —

They were dismissed from the tortuous assembly after a tedious God-knows-how-long speech about self-preservation and honor. It really was as impressive as it was ludicrous how they could invent an entire hour-long preach based on Gakushu’s demotion alone. “The school values its students’ well-being.” How laughable. All they cared about was turning life in the E class hell to keep the other students’ in line for their shiny reputation. His current predicament was only convenient because it worked in favor of Mister Principal’s philosophy.

In that case—

“How’s life been treating you, Asano-kun?”

The taunting voice sounded familiar, though Gakushu cast that aside for a more pressing announcement to make. The fire of his decision still burnt bright, in the middle of which “Asano” was nailed to a stake.

“Asano-kun, I imagine that it shouldn’t be too hard to reply to us, now that we are your superior.” Another voice. 

“Gakushu.” Was his one-word answer.

“Huh? Speak up, won’t you?” A hand shoved at him now, but Gakushu stood taller, squared up, and stared back at his old  ~~friends~~ classmates in the eyes. 

"Call me Gakushu, and only that. Asano is dead.”

Everything and everyone froze up so quickly he couldn’t even blink. Even the slouch of Terasaka and Sugino’s shoulders straightened up as they turned to gawk. All eyes were plastered to him, scandalized. Their shell-shocked, wide-eyed looks were understandable, really. The last name shaped a person’s identity, without it, what would he be? A child against his parents, a person defying his roots. Gakushu was aware that murdering his own name was a truly unthinkable feat, and still, he dropped “Asano” like it meant nothing. This was his own Tower of Babel. An act against God if there ever were one. A declaration of war. 

He couldn’t wait until Mister Principal heard of his decision. 

Gakushu walked out of the school’s back gate in long strides, leaving the scene he caused behind as they finally came to their senses and began discussions. He didn’t think about the reasonings behind his words, just focused on the road in front of him and his next moves. Everything he carried out from now on regarding the E class needed to be thought out as carefully as could be. Winning a war against a more powerful enemy was achievable, but would not be child’s play. Mister Principal had with him an army of elites, and Gakushu had a team of assassins. 

It was going to be hard to work everyone in class E up to the top fifty, but Gakushu was confident in his own abilities. 

He was, after all, still the best this school had to offer. 

— — —

The others caught up to him quite quickly. The walk back to school was silent and awkward, though Gakushu didn’t expect otherwise. How was anyone supposed to react to something like that? It was difficult to find a conversational topic that wouldn’t bring up the recent calamity, and any sane person knew that commentating on life-changing decisions wouldn’t be discussed out in the open woods. Even Karasuma-sensei and Bitch-sensei stayed silent, although that may have more to do with the fact that they were further back, and that any exchange between them would be omitted by the heavy sound of footsteps. 

Virtually no one got overeager and parkoured back this time. 

When they reached the class building, they were greeted by Akabane, who, presumably, had had quite a peaceful nap on a tree branch while chaos ensued at the school assembly (and spread around the school like wildfire). The redhead swooped down from his tree to welcome them back, then proceeded to pick out Shiota from the line of students. The two chatted as they all made their ways back into the classroom. 

— — —

Koro-sensei moved so quickly there were clones of himself standing in front of each student in the E class, and Gakushu was no exception. He had been doing this ever since they returned from that assembly, announcing his plan to surpass the A class this semester (“Let us turn up the heat!” He shrieked, “the heat! Burning hot!”) by helping each student with their respective weakness. This plan of his apparently involved getting into everyone’s personal space and coaching them in person, which… worked.

(What bugged Gakushu the most about this wasn’t Koro-sensei’s method, but the way in which he executed it. It wasn’t conventional teaching to clone oneself for in-person tutoring, but then, again, this year’s E class wasn’t a conventional classroom, either. Maybe that was why almost none of the students looked particularly perturbed about the current potential distraction of a teacher.)

They had five months left to assassinate Koro-sensei, but it never made a difference to Gakushu whether or not they could actually complete that task. All he wanted to do was win a war against a bigger enemy, and if he could do it, could kill Mister Principal’s ideals and prove himself ~~(~~ ~~ what was he proving?)~~, he could die with no regrets and a smug face. 

Gakushu guessed that  ~~ inherited ~~ single-mindedness stuck with him despite his efforts to exorcise himself.

— — — 

The wind didn’t feel as good when it slipped through his hair and slid on his skin, and yet, here he was, jumping from one top of a house to another. 

It wasn’t his idea. Gakushu would never even think of things like these, but he guessed that when you’re in the E class, there were going to be people who would. Okajima and Kimura, specifically. They went around class, asking everyone to join their little after school parkour escapade back to the train station. It would be good practice for their bodies, they said. Most declined, of course. Parkour in school vicinity was one thing, the city was a whole different place, as it involved other people, unrelated to and ignorant of any of the assassinations taking place. 

Gakushu wanted to decline the offer, but he had been making a list, recently, of the pros and cons of ridding oneself of one’s own name — pondering the consequences after the actions, and wanted to take his mind off all that, so he agreed. 

The list went on inside his head as he ran and prepared for the jump. ~~(~~ ~~ Dropping the name may affect his allowance. Dropping the name will force everyone to recognize him for who he was, rather than for who his Father was. ~~ ~~)~~ Even this change in scenery and bodily maneuvers didn’t help. He sighed and jumped.

“It’s kind of refreshing, isn’t it?” Shiota’s distant voice caught the tail end of his attention. Gakushu turned his head to the voice’s direction, watching blue pigtails flutter in the wind and blue eyes squinting a bit with a grin. Briefly, he wondered why Akabane’s annoying ass wasn’t here as well, but threw that concern right out of the window when Shiota’s route grew closer to his until they were near each other enough to talk without shouting. 

Somehow, Gakushu found himself disregarding the list. Maybe talking to an actual human being would banish all those thoughts of names and wars. At least talking to Shiota would.

“Not as refreshing as it could be.” Gakushu jumped, in time with the boy next to him. 

“What? No way, I find parkour completely therapeutic.” There was a glint in Shiota’s smile. Gakushu nearly choked on air.

“Maybe it’s just you.” He replied.

“Or maybe it’s just _you_ being a grouch.” Shiota’s comeback was instant. “I mean, you dropping your name may have been pretty shocking, but, personally, I think it’s just one war declaration among various others of us E class against the A class and the school, hell, even the Principal. So liven up, maybe, we’re gonna defeat them. You’ve been scowling too much.”

It was pleasant, really, to hear that. 

“Beware, guys, we have a crossroad coming up before the next street! We’re gonna have to jump down!” Warned Kataoka, about the only voice of authority in this parkour group. Gakushu remembered her and Isogai explicitly denying the parkour offer, then changing their minds and following the group out of a sense of responsibility.

They kept going, and keeping the awareness of the change in terrain in mind. Leading the group were Okajima and Kimura, the two who pitched this idea, though everyone else wasn’t so far behind that they lost track, but were too behind to actually know what the other two would be seeing. 

And, really, it was like watching a tragedy unfold in slow motion. 

There was a loud crash as Okajima and Kimura jumped to the street. Gakushu wondered if it would be too late, now, to backtrack and pretend he was never in on this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha yeah this chapter took too long to come out don't leave me alone in the abyss of this fandom pls i beg of u


	8. Before and After Time — 1st Period

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asano "I have a reputation to uphold goddamnit" Gakushu

All Gakushu could see, as the aftermath of the crash, was a man and a crooked bicycle. (And his two classmates fallen on their asses.)

The man looked old, around sixty or so. His skin bore a pallid yellow hue, possibly from malnutrition or exhaustion, or both, Gakushu couldn’t be too sure. Whatever gray hair he had left was tied into a little pigtail behind his skinny bald head. He lied on his side, letting out loud, painful grunts and doubled up in pain as one of his hands clutched the fabric of his pants. Scattered around him and his toppled bike were grocery items — paper towels, candies, a brown paper bag, (soda?) — in surprisingly large amounts for an old man who looked as though he lived by himself. 

In retrospect, though, it was not a very tragic scene. Gakushu had seen worse, and yet, there was still that odd pang in him that kept him firmly planted to the roof, unable to move to call an ambulance before anything got worse.

(Gakushu was sure that he was much more assertive in situations like these. Maybe the E class had rubbed off on him again. What from them had rubbed off, though, he didn’t know.)

In thirty seconds, the following things occurred:

  1. Everyone freed themselves from their freezing spells and swarmed in to surround the man. They tried to help him up, fix his bent bike. There was a flurry of apologies, though no one thought of calling an ambulance. (How could they, when they were the very cause of this accident?)
  2. Someone heard the noises — a passing florist, and immediately phoned an ambulance, saving them the trouble of deciding who would step up and explain the situation for the EMTs, or at least prolonging that trouble until much later on. 
  3. It clicked in for everyone that, yes, this was the consequences of their actions. The parkour shortcut that seemingly hurt nobody had caused injuries to someone other than themselves. Being reprimanded after everything was settled down was unavoidable. 



And before he knew it, Gakushu was stood in front of the Emergency Reception, staring at the automatic door as it slid open and close. Everyone who joined the parkour party was restless, bathed in the dusk’s clementine light. They were all asked to stay even after the check in procedure. It was clear why that was, and a part of Gakushu lamented the time loss during which he could have studied for the midterms, though it was minuscule and faded right when Karasuma-sensei stepped out. The man looked tired and ready to combust, only to take a deep breath and regained his composure. 

“A hairline fracture of the right femur.” He began, looking at each and every one of them in the eyes. “It’s mild enough that he should be up and walking in a week or so.” There was a little sigh of relief somewhere around them. “But given that you kids are a state secret, my men are negotiating a gag order and an out-of-court settlement.” 

Gakushu guessed that was enough alleviation for their situation and lifted his head a bit. Nearly everyone was still hanging their heads, not daring to look back at Karasuma-sensei’s eyes. All in shame he presumed. Though it wasn’t like they could do anything about a man’s broken leg other than put him in a hospital.

Then, there was a sound, something that sounded like a miniature sonic boom. Wind tousled his hair, and Gakushu — and the class turned around to Koro-sensei. Face a pure charcoal color, contorted with rage. Seething with anger. Shaking with the intensity of his  ~~disappointment~~ . 

~~~~That’s… new.

“K—Koro-sensei…” Isogai managed to stammer out. 

“B—But it was such a narrow street…” Kimura started, then trailed off, looking away. 

“Who’d ever expect an old man to be riding his bike down there?” Okajima nearly yelled, eyes widening. An instantaneous fearful reaction. 

“He’s right.” Okano looked to the side. 

“I do think what we did was wrong…” Yada stuttered before shutting herself up.

“But we did it to sharpen our skills.” Nakamura finished the former’s sentence.

“You just don’t get the pleasure of havin’ to save the Eart—“  
  
And that seemed like the tipping point for Koro-sensei, because there was a sting on Gakushu’s cheek half a second later, and everyone else had also seemed to register the same sensation. Koro-sensei appeared in front of the Emergency Reception door in a flash, tentacles flung in the air, cloak blown up behind him by the wind. He was an ominous shadow that towered over all of them. He was furious. There was no body large enough to contain his wrath so it all tried to diffuse into the air around them, ultimately failed, and condensed thickly into heavy black tar that oozed onto their shoulders.

Gakushu took a step back, clutching the red spot on his cheek. Koro-sensei’s rage was petrifying.

“Will you report that as injuring the students?” Without their clamor, Koro-sensei’s voice rang loud and clear in the silence. Terrifyingly deep and emotionless. 

“I’ll look over it this once. I knew the risks when I introduced that high-level training. It may have been too soon for you after all.” The hospital door slide open heavily as Karasuma-sensei turned, footsteps heavy. “It’s my fault.” 

He disappeared inside. Disappointed.

“Sensei…” Kimura spoke up. They all knew what he was going to say. They all were going to say it. “We’re sorry.”

“—We’re really sorry.”

“—We screwed up.”

It was all quiet again as they waited for their judgements. Gakushu swallowed. It had never been in his mind that rage was even an emotion for Koro-sensei, he was just too—

“You may have grown too strong. Drunk on your own power, you forgot to put yourself in the shoes of someone weaker than you. That makes you no different than the students on the main campus.”

Koro-sensei wasn’t looking at anyone in particular, (or, rather, he was looking at all of them at the same time) and yet, Gakushu felt the words piercing directly into him. He was a student on the main campus, was the one who used his authority to challenge Isogai into the Bo-tashi game with an intention to learn Mister Principal’s secrets. He was a strong person who used his powers against the weak, and never once thought about them. 

Was it that much of an unredeemable feat?

Gazes began jabbing at him. Everyone seemed to realize what he was feeling as they reflected upon themselves. Gakushu just hoped it wasn’t pity because he took the brunt of Koro-sensei’s comparison.

There was the sound of torn paper, and, in a moment, all attention turned back to Koro-sensei, who had now returned to his regular yellow. He had a Math book in his tentacles that he had ripped in half, his ambiguous smile nowhere near uncovering his intentions.

“The midterms are now exactly two weeks away. I forbid any of you from studying for them.”

Gakushu felt his jaw dropping. Gobsmacked. He didn’t want to check. 

“It’s not a punishment, so close your mouth, Asa— Gakushu-kun. There are simply other things you should be studying first. I’m responsible, too, for having forgotten to teach them.” 

The remnants ofKoro-sensei’s lesson was both awakening and heartwarming until their teacher looked wistfully to where they assumed was the injured man’s hospital room. Two seconds later, he disappeared from their view. A sonic boom echoed from said room just a few moments after, and then there was screaming.

After all, their teacher was still a giant yellow tentacle monster. 

———

It turned out that the man they injured, Matsukata-san didn’t live alone. Not for the entire day, anyway.

The establishment was stationed isolated from civilization, swamped in green, though thankfully not too far away from class E’s building. Everything looked to be in disrepair, from the air conditioning system to the very ceiling above their heads. The floor creaked with their footsteps as the assistant lead their way to the common room. The nursery was in complete disarray, there was no denying that, but it wasn’t the worst thing about this not-punishment.

“Listen to this, everyone!” 

Around twenty little pairs of eyes were focused on them. 

“Principal Matsukata has been hurt, so he can’t work for a while.”

“Whaaat?”

“He got hurt?”

“Poor Mister Principal!”

“So instead, these young men and women will do anything we need for the next two weeks!”

“O—kay!”

Gakushu wasn’t too fond of children. 

No, scratch that. He wasn’t fond of them at all. But he wasn’t going to showcase _that_ in front of these kids and call it a day. Gakushu was not at all that type of person. If it was his responsibility to be a babysitter for the next two weeks, then so be it. Gakushu would be the number one babysitter _and_ take the top position in the school’s midterms rankings despite this current hindrance.

“Well, we can do some stealth studying at home. Two weeks of unpaid work as a condition for keeping the E class’s secret? A small price to pay for that bounty,” spoke Takebayashi, eloquently astute despite the pants pooling around his ankles and two kids play tug-of-war with those same pants. 

Gakushu agreed with him, except the part with the pants  ~~(and hoped with his entire being that it wouldn’t happen to him as well)~~ . He would study in secret, maybe hide his books away when Koro-sensei inevitably came over for a visit. Perhaps he could stealth-tutor Shiota as well. That would definitely raise their class’s average grades, and then come back for a revenge in the End of Term Exams. It was a plan, and nothing was going to interfere with him killing Mister Principal’s system. 

“So what exactly are you planning to do for us, now?” 

Gakushu turned his head to where a resentful voice spoke. It was from a girl, oldest of the bunch, from the way the other kids were instantly shaken by her presence. She had her arms crossed, glower marring her face, barring her teeth like she was about ready to bite the nearest person’s head off. (In this case, said person happened to be Shiota. Gakushu briefly thought about pulling him to the side, but kept the impulse to himself.)

“Barging in on us en masse… reckon you can at least work off the oxygen you’re taking up?” The girl spat, head tilting to the side like if she leaned enough she would eventually be tall enough to look down on them. 

“Uh-oh, Sakura-neesan is in a bad mood.” 

“Yeah..”

“These guys are gonna get murdered.”

“She’s been here five years— the oldest kid around.”

“—And spent two of those years resisting school control!”

“Sakura-neesan, the ultimate NEET!”

What is this?

“Something sure set you guys off.” Commented Yoshida, the corner of his mouth slightly twitching.

“You guys make it sound cool and all, but really, she just doesn’t go to school.” Muramatsu joined, and Gakushu, well, agreed. Though this Sakura girl really had to have some authority among these kids, otherwise she wouldn’t earn this kind of “respect”. 

Out of nowhere, Sakura reappeared with a broom in her hands, looking even more combative than she ever did in the grand total of ten minutes that Gakushu had known her face.

“First, have you got what it takes to work?” 

As she said that, Sakura looked pointedly at Shiota, directing all her hostility where her gaze was, which was— not good. 

“Hey, uh—“ Shiota stuttered uselessly.

“Let’s just see, shall we? Hmm?”

Sakura raised her voice and pressed on, and Shiota only knew to back down. He didn’t fight her advance. It wasn’t an ideal situation. Gakushu knew he should have pulled Shiota out of her way, now he could do nothing but—

“—Shiota!/—Nagisa! Get out of her way!”

He and Akabane shouted at the same time, though it all turned out to be in vain, as Sakura, instead of jumping up and landing a square hit on Shiota’s head, fell through the floor and laid, rather embarrassingly, in the debris and broken wood planks. 

~~ Gakushu wanted to laugh, but he had a reputation to uphold, goddamnit, so while Akabane was choking on his spit laughing like an idiot, he held his chuckles. ~~

“Aw! That part of the floor is no good!” The spectating kids chimed in, effectively rubbing salt on Sakura’s very obvious wounds. 

“Aren’t you getting it fixed?” Isogai turned to the assistant. “I mean… this building is pretty decrepit.” 

“We don’t have the money.” 

_Oh_. Okay. That actually made a lot of sense, considering the state of disorder the nursery was in. 

“Any waitlisted student, any child not attending primary school— our principal takes them in at rock-bottom rates. He can’t even hire enough staff, so he winds up working the hardest.” 

Not only had they managed to injure an old man, they had taken out the main worker of a nursery that was trying its best to provide for children. The explanation of the assistant managed to put some guilt-ridden faces back into the scene, and Gakushu supposed that his, too, was one of those faces. It wasn’t everyday that another principal appeared and completely topple his assumption of what all principals must be, after all. While _his_ Mister Principal was out there giving money to addicts, _this_ Mister Principal took kids in despite the gargantuan dent in the money he could have been using to enjoy the rest of his life. 

Gakushu now wondered what Matsukata-san’s motive for all this was. Evidently, it would hardly be similar to that of Mister Principal. But what kind of potential did Matsukata-san see in these kids to make him happily spend all his money and time on this nursery?

“Twenty-nine of us for two weeks… I bet we could get some stuff done.” Maehara snapped his finger at the announcement of his epiphany. 

Suddenly, the room brightened up, overflowed with waves of agreement. 

“Okay guys, let’s divvy up the duties and work in his stead!” Isogai declared, leader-like, the way he should be. 

Gakushu let him have his moment, although everyone else barely needed this pronouncement. Chiba had already begun spewing out ways this structure could be improved, and Hara and Kanzaki had started planning how story time would go. Kurahashi apparently had spotted a cat and some bugs that the kids could all go look at outside. The room, one moment ago silent, was now bursting with excited chatters. 

As for him, Gakushu only wished that he wouldn’t have to work with the headache named Sakura.

———

He had to work with Sakura.

It was only natural, Gakushu realized, now that he thought about it carefully. He, the top student of the school, was of course going to tutor the oldest kid around, obviously because he would know, _should_ know how to tutor a kid. 

And yes, while that set of skills should have been in a neatly-wrapped package titled “top student essentials”, it wasn’t. In fact, Gakushu’s only saving grace was that he didn’t have to deal with this alone. 

Shiota knitted his eyebrows as he read over Sakura’s workbook. He wasn’t necessarily the best student in the class, but was elected into this tutor role along with Gakushu because “he ha[d] the emotional intelligence it t[oo]k to deal with a highly-volatile kid, just you see, Gakushu-kun”. Gakushu believed that, actually, as being around Shiota had always given him a kind of inner peace that he couldn’t quite acquire anywhere else.It was only the last thing Fuwa told him (along with a thumbs-up) before sending them off to this corner that was concerning: “You can do it, Gakushu-kun! It’s the perfect love triangle, the ultimate, one-of-a-time polyamory ship!”

Which… Gakushu didn’t even want to think about that, and either way, the presence of Shiota would help with his predicament.

Gakushu looked back down at the workbook right when Shiota turned to him.

“This girl _is_ a little behind in her studies.” Shiota discussed with him in low volume, Gakushu nodded, “though it’s bound to happen if she stays here instead of going on to primary school.”

They both looked back at the workbook as Sakura’s horribly wrong answers stared right at them. Tutoring to someone six (or more) levels below you wasn’t an easy task. Gakushu personally thought of himself as a good tutor, but only to students around middle school level (a few high school students, in some cases). When it came to primary school students, it was a completely different ball park. How would these equations make sense in a third-grader’s head? He wouldn’t know. He wasn’t a third-grader. 

Gakushu turned back to Shiota, only to find the exact same hopeless expression. 

“Make it snappy, Nagisa, Gakushu!” Sakura slapped her hand on the table as she nagged at them, clearly impatient. “Weren’t you two supposed to get me to Tokyo University?” 

It was, until we found out that you were a loss cause. Was what Gakushu wanted them to reply with.

“S-sorry.” Was what came out of Shiota’s mouth instead. Gakushu decided to shut up and play along.

“Hmph.” Sakura turned away like they had let her down for the umpteenth time. 

It didn’t matter if she was angry at them for whatever reason. Her mannerisms were of a brat and they were getting in the way of this tutoring. Gakushu wanted to say that to her face, but they were the good cop now, so he toned down his scowl and played by Shiota’s anti-confrontation rules. 

“Uh, hey…” Shiota returned his attention to Sakura. “Why did you stop going to school?” 

“Huh? Bullying, of course— bullying! The typical stupid kind!” She answered.

It was said so matter-of-factly, so bluntly that it took a few seconds for both Gakushu and Shiota to register the answer. Once the fact had time to sit still, the signs that they all missed hit them in the face. Of course Sakura was bullied into quitting school. What kind of kid was stubborn enough to be at an after school nursery during school hours? Even her irritable attitude was explainable now. 

What should have been obvious now crashed into them all at once like a truck. Bullying was common among schools. It was even a norm for the E class. Why did it only appear to him, now, that it happened to other people as well?

“I don’t get people…” Sakura continued on. “Kids that age should be innocent and sweet. But once they get a little bigger and stronger, I guess they use that strength to hurt people.” She pressed repeatedly on the clicker of her pen, the sound from it repeatedly hammer and grind her words (and Koro-sensei’s) into Gakushu’s brain.

He saw Shiota’s expression as it silently spelled out “ouch”, then saw the blue eyes as they quickly darted to him and back to Sakura again.

Because what Sakura just depicted sounded the least bit forgivable, and Gakushu was guilty of all of it.

“You two are thinking it too, aren’t you? ‘Don’t run away’, ‘If you don’t like it, go to school and get stronger yourself’.” Sakura slumped down and lowered her voice. All she sounded like was defeated, disillusioned, a elder who had seen it all instead of a “sweet and innocent” primary school student like what she described. “Just like Mom and Dad say.” 

She huffed out, exasperated, whether it was with people or with the story, no one knew.

“Well,” Sakura leaned back, letting her arms support her body, “you look weaker than me, Nagisa, so you probably don’t understand. But you, Gakushu, you probably do, don’t you?”

For the first time, Gakushu was speechless.

“Here, kitty-kitty!” 

Kurahashi’s voice resonated from the outside, predictably grabbing all of their attention. Sakura stood up from her position, saying that she wanted to check out the fuss. Shiota followed shortly after, and Gakushu, deprived of all possible activities but thinking — what he wanted to do least right now — got up and left as well.

“See what happens when you pluck up the courage to climb?” Sakura pointed to the kitten stuck on the branches of a tree, her arms crossed next to Shiota. “The higher you get the more dangerous it is. What’s the harm in staying down on terra firma?” 

Shiota only stared at her. It wasn’t reactionary, just a slight frown that probably meant he understood her point, and was about to raise another. It was as if he knew what was going to happen next. 

Gakushu felt like this was what he needed to be watching as well.

“This is one clichéd mess.” Yoshida muttered as he carried a log to his pile, while Kimura laid down his then took off.

“I’ll go! Okajima, we’ll do it like in the bo-tashi game!” 

“Okay!” 

The bo-tashi game… were they…

Gakushu observed Kimura and Okajima as they cleared their surrounding, then turned back to Shiota and Sakura, in time to hear the girl’s first lesson.

“Sakura-chan, if that treetop is school, and the ground is this place here… we all found our strength down on the ground—“ 

In a flash, Kimura ran to where Okajima stood ready, jumping and landing one feet square on his friend’s prepared hands. He was then launched upward to the top of the tree where the kitten was stuck. There was no hesitation in his movement, no second-guessing, only one fluid maneuver and complete trust in his friend’s leverage. 

“—While looking up… and getting looked down on… we learned plenty about how scary heights were before we started climbing—“ 

Kimura had begun climbing. He was fast and agile, reaching the kitten in a matter of minutes.

“—That’s why we can go our own way now—”

The kitten was retrieved now, and when Gakushu looked back at Shiota, he found himself unable to look away.

“Still, somewhere along the way we forgot our fear of heights, so we do still fall to the ground now and then.”

It was captivating, the way Shiota could be so grounded, yet lost in his own vast blue world. It wasn’t the first time Gakushu found his heartbeat in chaos, but it was the first where he could see the cause, feel it messing with his head as he had his meltdown.

“So learn here, you can go on to school once you have a game plan.” Shiota took Sakura’s hand into his own as he patted her head and smiled. “That’s my secret lesson, from me to you.”

The scene was mesmerizing without any glittering sunlight. The lesson carried weight despite being addressed to another person. The smile was like any other, but every other smile had already sent his heart running in panic.

Why was the question, the answer to which he had already known.

Shiota Nagisa was enchanting, and Gakushu was spellbound. 

It was simple as that.

———

The day ended with that very realization, after which Gakushu managed to avoid Shiota and Akabane thanks to the Karate training with Karasuma-sensei. It was his second salvation. Physical activities helped take his mind off whatever it was that he shouldn’t be thinking of, which was good. He had too much to think and too little to do. It would be counterintuitive to indulge himself in the thoughts he didn’t (think he would) enjoy in the first place.

In conclusion, the training time was Gakushu’s lifeline when he was drowning in a sea of his emotions.

But now, he was sitting in his living room, a Japanese textbook on his left and dinner on his right both to distract him from the burden of feelings. Neither of them were helping, but he read on and ate on. Too much exercise would lead to fatigue. No one wanted to pass out while eating dinner.

Gakushu wondered if one could eat their emotions away. If the answer was yes, then he would be working on it right away.

(And no, he would not, in a million years, admit that he was constantly freaking out ever since the after noon. It was like a secret, really. You thought you were being obvious and everyone knew, but no one actually had a clue and the secret was just driving you insane.)

He sighed as he turned the page in his book, rereading the old poems he had already memorized. He recited in his head the analysis, all the little details down the meaning and use of each kanji. Gakushu barely bat an eye as the yellow tentacle creature took the seat next to him and took his book awa—

Wait.

“Sensei, what are you—“

“Just making sure my students are doing good on their promises.” Koro-sensei flashed him the signature smile as he patted the pile of books on the table, which..

Gakushu clenched his fist. It took him three hours to hide all of those books.

“I’ve already told you, Gakushu-kun, it wasn’t a punishment. There are other things I need to teach the class first. I also wish to treat the entire class equally, and therefore, cannot allow anyone to study for this test no matter how little involvement they had in Matsukata-san’s accident. That is all, now enjoy your dinner, Gakushu-kun!”

One sonic boom later and Koro-sensei was gone, along with half of the tomatoes on Gakushu’s dish.

———

“Morning, Gakushu.” 

“Morning, Nagisa."

Shiota was a little later than usual, though Gakushu felt himself a little drowsier as well. It was probably the aftereffect of his emotional meltdowns, which had not been resolved at all. Gakushu relished in the fact that he could still keep his composure around Shiota after his revelation (though it was not at all that profound, in retrospect, it was still a monumental moment) and not lose his shit like he did that day. It would be humiliating to have an even more public breakdown just because of some nonsensical feelings.

Gakushu found that he appreciated the dry autumn air and the earthy smell of leaves in the wind. He pondered the many autumns he had walked to school and asked himself why this was the first one he noticed these atmospherical elements. But then, maybe he had always seen them, and now was the first time he paid attention to them. 

Either that or it was because of the people — one person to be exact, who instinctively leaned close to him when a particularly strong wind blew at them, whose head he wanted to see tucked into the crook of his neck and whose shoulders he wanted to drape his jacket over in the nippy wind. Gakushu couldn’t understand the feeling anymore. It felt like it should be dominating but it wasn’t. It was just an impulse to protect and care and..

A wind blew into Shiota’s hair, mussing up the blue strands, and normally Gakushu would have adored the way the other fixed his hair with a long sigh, but not this time. 

A purple flower had blossomed on his forehead. 

Shiota quickly covered it with his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this instead of sleeping


	9. Before and After Time — 2nd Period

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the first step to solving a problem is to admit that you have a problem  
> or, in which gakushuu accidentally (and single-handedly) created a giant dumpster fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i experimented on a few stylistic elements in this chapter, you'll see them when you see them. the way i wrote this chapter is completely intentional and it may convey one thing or another, up to your interpretation.
> 
> tell me if you like this style of narration in the comments. i was actually influenced by william faulker and adah's character in barbara kingsolver's "the poinsonwood bible", and found that it expresses thoughts very well.

Once he had seen the bruises, it was impossible to stop seeing them. 

They were marring Shiota’s skin the next day, and the day after that, and all the days following. They were anywhere and everywhere, catching his eyes like beacons in the night.They appeared more and more, almost like their inflictor had decided to stop giving a fuck if anyone saw.

Gakushu hated them, despised them with a passion that could seep right through his skin if he tried just a little harder. 

“You have to do something about this, Nagisa,” he said, one day, he wasn’t sure which.

“I’ll be fine.” Shiota replied. And they never talked about it again, because Shiota always had that look in his eyes, a new shade of blue that told Gakushu to back off.

Gakushu listened  ( ~~because he was turning more and more into a spellbound idiot~~ ) and tried to comply. He couldn’t, so Shiota stopped faking smiles at him in private because he knew something that he shouldn’t and couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it.

Heavy thuds that reverberated from the apartment next door played in his head on repeat. If he closed his eyes, he would see Shiota with fists clenched at his sides, unable to oppose. It reminded him of himself, plastered to the wall, eyes wide, weak and helpless against the Devil himself. He loathed that vision and chose to be out at the balcony every time he heard the noises. He hoped to find Shiota out there one day, maybe just to look at the sky. Gakushu missed the way he ceased to be himself just staring at blue locks fluttering in the wind.

“You’re awfully chipper today, Nagisa-kun.” 

“What do you mean, Karma-kun?” Shiota laughed, the sound that came out almost seemed unadulterated. “This is like me everyday.”

The only proof that Akabane was even aware of what was happening was the black blazer draped on Shiota’s shoulders right after he arrived, which effectively covered most of the visible bruises. Aside from that, though, not a word was spoken. The invisible bruises that smothered Shiota a quiet and painful presence despite their perceivable counterparts already being omitted away. 

Gakushu couldn’t unsee the purple flowers. If they were obstructed he would just imagine — just as he remembered where all of them were. All he could do was try to pretend they weren’t there and that he wasn’t seeing them. It was getting more difficult, now, when the urge to pummel his fist into a wall increased as each of his feet hit the ground, so he tried a little harder.

“Why aren’t you talking to him about this?” 

He tried to alleviate his — whatever this was — by talking to Akabane. It wasn’t typical of him to converse with the redhead, but he was running out of options and no one else seemed to take notice of Shiota’s situation. 

“I did. He told me he could help himself so I stopped.” Akabane had his hands in his pants’ pockets, holding himself up the lax way he did everything. He looked the least bit worried or concerned about the topic at hand. Gakushu was on the verge of bafflement.

“You stopped… helping him?” He stood opposite to Akabane, arms crossed.

“No. I stopped talking about it to him. Nagisa-kun can be stubborn sometimes. I don’t want him to think that I’m pushing it or that I see him as helpless.”

Gakushu stopped and considered Akabane’s actions lately. Aside from the blazer, nothing new. Maybe he just wasn’t looking into it enough. Maybe there was a deeper meaning behind Akabane’s blazer on Shiota’s frame other than the avoidance to touch a self-regenerating bruise in the hopes that it would heal itself.

“What’s gotten into you anyway?” Akabane quirked an eyebrow at him. “Since when did you start thinking of anything or anyone aside from yourself?” 

Gakushu pressed his crossed arms tighter to himself. 

“Why do you care?”

Truth to speak, Gakushu didn’t know, either. He found himself at a loss for words, still digging around in his vocabulary because he couldn’t figure out how to phrase what he had been feeling. Why did he care, anyway? Because of the noises next door and his mental image that reminded him so much of himself, and because the bruises just bothered him that much. Not that he would say any of that to Akabane, and not that the redhead would validify his reasonings, or so he figured. 

So, instead of his long answer, Gakushu settled for something short and brief.

“You tell me.”

———

What was it called when two people told lies and the both of them knew the truth and that the other knew the truth as well?

“Are you hurting anywhere, Nagisa?”

“Why are you asking that?”

“I heard some noises yesterday ~~ , and the day before, and the day before that ~~ . Thought you tripped and fell, or something. It sounded like it hurt.”

“Might have.”

Ocean eyes hypnotized. 

Where there could have been a 

little reassuring smile, 

there wasn’t. 

Two people lied. 

Both knew the truth. 

Both knew the other 

lied. 

Neither said a word about it. 

Gakushu still wondered why he cared. 

———

It felt wrong to say that Sakura could pick up on the tension between them because of her history of being bullied, but, at the same time, it made perfect sense, and was the direct conclusion. Gakushu wasn’t entirely surprised by the quizzical look she gave him and Shiota as they walked in. The mental distress manifested itself quite clearly even to those who weren’t aware of the cause. 

“Something’s off with you two today, I can tell.” She stated her verdict. They neither denied nor confirmed what she said. Somehow, though, all of them unanimously agreed that she stood corrected.

Still, Shiota smiled as he greeted Sakura. It was becoming a trademark thing for him, that smile. Soon, Gakushu would look at that kind of radiant smile and instantly think of nothing but azure hair and porcelain skin. The thought of associating such things with each other did weird things to his already unexplainable feelings, and for a second, he forgot that the tension existed. 

There was an unusual heat creeping up to his cheeks as he abandoned his assignment of checking Sakura’s Math works in order to look at Shiota, the other predictably oblivious to his so-called soulful gaze. 

“Nagisa, there’s one character I don’t know in this sentence. Can you read it?” Sakura held her textbook to Shiota, one finger pointing at a line of text that was too small for Gakushu to read from his distance.

“It’s ei, but read as oyo in this context. So the entire word is oyoide.” Shiota explained to his temporary student while Gakushu leaned over to read the book’s content, unable to fight his curiosity. 

“I swim in your eyes.” He read the entire sentence out loud. 

I swim in your eyes,

and you, like sunset on the 

sea, tantalize me. 

And Gakushu was certain that he knew how to swim, so sure of himself that he unknowingly drowned and died in the small oceans that contained stars. He let the currents drag him to the depths, didn’t complain when the lack of oxygen suffocated him and the pressure made his bones collapse. 

“Oh,” Sakura took back her book and reread the line. “That’s what it says.” She mumbled, wrote a little note next to the kanji, then sighed, “Why is there so much cheese in a school book anyway?”

Her comment elicited a little laugh from Shiota, which prompted Gakushu to smile a little, too, as he watched the former, though it wasn’t until the other two pointed it out that he realized he had been “sporting the goofiest of goofy grins” (according to Sakura). Heat pooled on his face after the awareness of his reaction, he just hoped his skin didn’t redden easily (hoped, because before this, he never actually took the time to look into the mechanisms of blushing). 

They fell into a slower, more steady rhythm as the morning progressed. The subjects they went through everyday were school-standard, ranging from Japanese to English to everyone’s self-proclaimed worst enemy, Math. It came at a surprise to everyone that Gakushu was only assisting in the teaching and that Shiota was the main tutor, but where Gakushu was a star student, the other was an excellent teacher. And there was something about him that made Gakushu hesitant when he thought of dethroning Shiota and becoming the best teacher. He didn’t, and settled, instead, as the latter’s assistant. 

Gakushu had a Japanese textbook in one hand, the other held Sakura’s notebook. His eyes darted between them as Shiota went on to the next lesson, his hushed teachings a pleasant white noise. The three of them usually shared this kind of completely peaceful atmosphere around ten in the morning, the kind where most of the talking was Shiota’s soft, silvery voice that Gakushu had grown to adore. Sakura gave little inputs of hers once in a while, and Gakushu himself didn’t speak unless prompted to. 

It felt like their own little classroom. And if that was what a classroom meant, Gakushu guessed he had spent fifteen years of his life in prison. This was a safe space, where they all learnt things from each other and created memories no one but them would remember. This was a classroom, their little classroom, where Shiota was a good teacher and Sakura was his student and Gakushu was an admirer who looked and looked and thought of a cold color as warm.

Gakushu would like to banish these corny domestic visions into the abyss if he could, but he couldn’t, and was forever stuck with mushy feelings he would rather die than reveal to someone else, complete with an abundance of new implications for the color of blue. 

———

Blue bruises were, to his dismay, one of the newfound implications.

“Nagisa, what’s that bruise on your arm?”

Shiota looked mildly alarmed, then regained his composure in a fraction of a second. That fraction of a second played out in slow motion and it almost felt like an hour. Faint thuds resounded somewhere around the nursery.

Sakura pressed the question the stubborn way she did on their first day here.

“Is someone bullying you?”

“No. Why would you think that?”

It, perhaps, was because Sakura was bullied herself. And Gakushu was in no way entitled to pass his observations as the final judgements, but it was easy to draw a conclusion based on Sakura’s history.

“So no one hit you?” 

Shiota’s fist clenched where Sakura couldn’t see, but Gakushu could and he clenched his fist as well, nails digging into the flesh of his palm.

“No, of course not. My arm hit the edge of the bed when I tripped yesterday.”

Shiota’s demeanor felt rehearsed, though almost passing as natural. It was probably rehearsed, because Shiota was the type of person to do that — would rather lie than burdening others with his problems, unconditionally selfless, absurdly self-deprecating. 

So when Shiota’s fingers curled into a tighter fist, Gakushu began to feel his own quake. 

Heavy footfalls reverberated, though they were beginning to sound like the rhythmic trotting of polished shoes on a carpeted floor. The trotting then morphed into constant, ceaseless, amplified clack, _clack_ , **clack** of a centipede’s feet tapping against the floor. The air in his lungs liquefied and condensed and wanted to flow back out to his mouth and make him foam like a brainwashed shell of a person.

Gakushu was angry.

He excused himself, trying to ignore Shiota’s perplexed look and Sakura’s suspicious eye. He didn’t remember what his excuse was, he probably should, but he didn’t. Maybe he just flat-out said “I need to leave” and that was it. Either way, he left the room. 

He stopped at a blank wall, one that the others were going to tear down, but had not touched yet. He didn’t want to go to the bathroom. Maybe he should, but not now. Going to the toilet meant looking at a mirror and looking at a mirror meant Mister Principal and Mister Principal meant

centipede.

There was a dent on the wall to which his fist was connected. He didn’t know when he had done it, but if the erratic thrums in his chest were anything to go by, it was just now, on a whim. Gakushu never did anything on a whim. He calculated the outcomes and figured out the best routes and strategies with which he would reach the best result. But he just punched the wall on impulse and now he was yanking his fist out to check for damage.

Debris fell out and flew down along with some wall pieces to the ground next to his feet and some tiny blue wallflowers. Gakushu leaned down and picked them up, spinning the flowers by the sprigs between his thumb and forefinger. Blue petals twirled as if showing off a ballgown. Gakushu found that they calmed him. To an extent.

_Why do you care?_

All his reasons were invalid and he was selfish, and it wasn’t right to care about people when all you could think of was yourself and your circumstances. He searched and couldn’t find reasons valid enough, so he wracked his brain and tried to think of some more. Gakushu was supposed to be “brilliant”, but at that moment, none of his reasons were justified. He was left staring at the cracking wall and a wallflower he accidentally crushed.

He was surprised when Shiota found him, eyes still pasted to the wall like he wanted to burn it down. He was grabbed by the arm and dragged away, the crushed wallflower slipped off his fingers and drifted to the ground. He wanted to chase after it.

It didn’t surprise him, however, when Shiota insisted on cleaning his scraped knuckles. _There’s a med kit in the principal’s office_ , Shiota had said, _it’ll only take a few minutes_. Gakushu didn’t notice the damage at all and doubted that the pain would bother him. It was just like that afternoon after he was demoted and before he was disowned. There was no pain, just pent-up _everything_ that couldn’t be relieved with a well-aimed punch at the wall.

Nonetheless, he let Shiota lead him into the room, let the other sit him down and take his hand and treat it.

“Where’s Sakura?” He began, effectively distracting Shiota from his current endeavor. 

“I gave her a little break. She deserves it.” Shiota said, then looked back down at Gakushu’s hand and resumed his work. He was gentle and meticulous, careful from the way he wet the cotton ball to how he gingerly dabbed it on the scrapes. There was a slight difference in the sizes of his and Gakushu’s hands, which Gakushu tried not to notice but failed anyway. 

Gakushu swallowed, all but feeling like the victim of a heat storm. 

Shiota was holding his hand like it was the most fragile thing in the world. Gakushu wanted to treasure the delicacy in that gesture and keep it for himself because he was selfish that way. 

It baffled him that Shiota cared. He had no good reason to, just because they were classmates and neighbors and Gakushu knew about _whateverthatwasgoingon_ didn’t mean Shiota had to make Gakushu’s troubles his. Perhaps the altruism stemmed from a desire to shut Gakushu up from revealing his family problems, but it didn’t sound like something a person like Shiota would do. So

“Why?”

Shiota stopped in the midst of putting the med kit away to turn and look at him.

“Why what?”

“Why do you care, Shiota, about me?” The most sincere question Gakushu had ever asked him, unadulterated because Gakushu could never bring himself to refer to anyone by anything other than their family names, similarly to how he never did get used to calling Shiota by his first name.

Shiota looked only a little surprised at the question, maybe the name change, but simply smiled.

“I don’t think anyone needs a reason to be kind to others, Gakushu. We just are.” He turned again and put the med kit away.

It took Gakushu a moment to process everything, once he finished, however, the answer to his question became obvious beyond reason. It felt like a human nature, an instinct to be compassionate, one diminished by a thirst for superiority and an abuse of that dominance. Shiota somehow kept it. Gakushu wondered if it was because he was a “weakling” and understood what it felt to be powerless. 

~~ _Why do you care?_ ~~

Gakushu wanted to care.

“You know, you can stay over at my house if she ever gets too intense.” He told Shiota, saw the way blue eyes widened, but kept going. “We can call it an extended sleepover-plus-tutoring. She won’t suspect a thing.” He stood up and approached the other.

Shiota bit his lips and crossed his arms in front of his chest. 

“What are you talking about?”

“Your mother.” 

Shiota looked at him, eyebrows knitted like Gakushu had betrayed his trust. Gakushu didn’t like that look.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. My mom and I are fine."  
  
“You’re not fine.“

“I’m fine.”

Shiota’s hands balled up into fists. Gakushu wanted to be convinced but he didn’t look fine.

“She’s abu—“

“No she isn’t!” 

“ _Yes she is!_ ”

They both broke out into shouts. The oceans in Shiota’s eyes burned and Gakushu hated that they were burning for the wrong reason, so he blindly squeezed Shiota’s arm where it hurt and yanked it up, forcing Shiota to look at his reality and accept it. He saw Shiota’s fire dim and his painful wince and when there was only ash, he realized that a purple flower really did snuff out a fire. 

Gakushu let go of Shiota’s arm.

“Sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“No, I’m fine.” But it was a lie and Gakushu knew because he squeezed Shiota’s arm where it hurt.

“You’re not fine.” He muttered to himself. If Shiota heard anything, he didn’t say it.

———

“Hey, Nagisa-kun, can we borrow Gakushu-kun for a while?” 

“Yeah, I can teach Sakura-chan on my own for now.”

Whenever Shiota decided that he could tutor Sakura on his own, Gakushu was sent to help the others. It was either helping them carry something or taking part in a play for the kids. He probably had to fill a play’s role this time, because Fuwa was sent to retrieve him. She was the chief writer for the all the plays they performed to humor the kids, mostly because Hazama’s scripts were too dark most of the time, and Kanzaki’s were just too long and sort of boring to their audience.

“Man, still don’t understand why you let Nagisa-kun boss you around, Gakushu-kun.” Fuwa claimed once they’d walked far away enough from the room. 

Gakushu blamed his feelings for that, but Fuwa didn’t need to know.

“What— he’s not..” Instead of coming up with some elaborate lie, he impulsively chose to stammer his way out. Fuwa gave him a devilish smirk. Gakushu was struck with instant regret.

“Whipped.” She chuckled. “I never imagined I would one day see the great, the virtuous Gakushu-kun blush and stutter, but apparently life is _that_ unpredictable and my mortal eyes have now been blessed with this vision.” 

They stopped at the door, Fuwa gave him a thumbs up on one hand, the other reaching for the door handle.

“Don’t worry, Gakushu-kun, I will keep this information for my fan fiction only.” She slid the door open, dramatically, only to reveal a haphazard scene of people in costumes and kids turning their heads all at once toward him.

As Gakushu stood, still taking in the scene and calibrating his next move like a robot, Fuwa pushed him inside.

“Now be great and fight Karma-kun for the princess of the blue kingdom!”

———

It was popular demand, they said. He didn’t believe a word of it.

Apparently the kids wanted to see “two handsome princes” fighting over a princess (Kanzaki) using giant, badass robots. Apparently the kids wanted him to be the “other handsome prince” (Fuwa said, “They said they wanted the onii-chan with purple eyes and obviously it was you.”). Apparently, Akabane was looking forward to this fight as well and they ended up “acting” almost too realistically. It felt like a personal vendetta.

It probably was a personal vendetta.

The play ended, or halted, with the both of them lying, panting on the floor, pieces of the “robots” scattered around and the “princess” smiling awkwardly at the back at her two “princes”.  
  
“Why do you want the princess, prince Gakushu?” Akabane grunted out, all bite. They were fighting for a “princess”, but the “princess” that he implied was missing from the room.

“Because I love her, prince Akabane. I imagine that you do, as well, is that not why we are fighting?” 

Eye daggers were thrown between the two “princes”.

“Alright,” Kayano intercepted just in time, “unfortunately, we must pause the play here. Come back later and we’ll have more for you, okay?”  
  
“Okay!” The kids happily accepted the pause and began walking off.

Kayano then turned to the two princes.

“You two should go wash up and maybe get some water to drink.” 

They agreed and stalked away to get water. Akabane didn’t look at him as they went, but scrutinized him after they finished their water. It felt as if he was a ghost with unfinished business.

“Heard you screaming match in the storage room the other day.” Akabane initiated, gaze still casted upon Gakushu.

“Did anyone else—“

“No, I just happened to pass there.” 

“Oh.”

They stayed silent for a while more.

“Probably should stop using “princess” to suggest at him, huh?” 

Gakushu agreed. Silence lingered between them longer.

“So what about the whole “I love her” thing?”

“You know clearly that that was a play, Akabane.”

“Yeah, but do you?”

“I have incomprehensible feelings, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“So it _is_ true.”

“Partially.”

“You _do_ know that he’s taken right?” _By me_ was implied, but Gakushu understood it anyway.

“Being romantically involved with fellow students is strictly forbidden on campus.”

“The E class is technically not on campus, is it?”

“Don’t try me, Akabane. I’ve already figured our thirty ways to expel you just from your attire alone.”

“Eh? How scary. You do realize that you’re not Daddy’s Boy anymore, right?” Akabane stuck out his tongue. Gakushu wanted to rip said tongue out and throw it back at the redhead’s face.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t report you.”

“How childish.”

“Fuck you.”

“Golden boy knows how to swear! What a spectacle!”

Gakushu was close to having an aneurysm. Actually, fuck that, if he could pop a blood vessel or two and die on the spot it would be great. 

In the end, though, he decided that dying because of Akabane wasn’t worth it and walked away. 

“Oh come on, _Asano_. I’m trying to get a conversation here.”

And, no, despite all efforts to tell himself he was better than this, Akabane clearly knew what effect that name would have on Gakushu. It was too much and too far and Gakushu managed to limit himself to a roundhouse kick that landed Akabane on the ground.

“What’s your deal, Akabane?” Gakushu stood over the former, crossing his arms and seconds away from beginning another brawl. “What do you want from me? We all know you never actually want a _conversation_.”

Akabane massaged his lower back as he sat up, mumbling almost incoherently.

“Okay, yeah, I deserved that.” He put his hands up in a surrendering gesture. “I actually did want to get a conversation out of you, okay? You were just too much of a hardass so I had to soften you up a little bit.”  
  
“Just get to the point maybe and I won’t be such a _hardass_ next time.” Gakushu parroted back, full offense, as he averted his eyes.

When he looked back, signaling to Akabane that he could talk, he fully expected something taunting to be throw at him, or at least a smirk would be in character, but Akabane’s face was grave and Gakushu couldn’t decide if the redhead being capable of taking things seriously for once was a good or a bad thing. 

“I assume you’ve offered to help Nagisa-kun?” 

“He didn’t take it very well.” It was the first time Gakushu was able to see eye-to-eye with someone about the matter. That someone wasn’t Shiota.

“Nagisa-kun isn’t too open.”

“I can see that. From the way he was raised, I’m pretty sure it’s a predictable outcome.”

“He’s still in denial about his problems.”

“Or too aware of them and just accepted his fate. He probably didn’t even think anyone would care. Honestly, did you come to him about this at all, Akabane?”

“I— no.”

“What kind of boyfriend are you, then?”

“Not the kind who slaps his problems at his face.”

“And not the kind who cares enough to bring his issues up at all.”

Something told Gakushu that, one way or another, his comment had just shattered a little bit of Akabane.

———

~~And it was cruel, he knew, but it was the necessary push that Gakushu hoped, _hoped_ would help.~~

———

But when they reached the gas station, at five in the afternoon, under the tangerine sky, Shiota didn’t say goodbye.

Not his usual “See you tomorrow”, anyway.

Instead, he said, “I think we should take a break, Karma-kun.”

_ Farewell. _

And walked away.

Gakushu glanced at Akabane and knew something else broke inside of him; it felt like slipping after you’d climbed so high, and falling

and falling. 

He knew Akabane had confronted Shiota, to show that he cared.

His acts scared the latter, made him cower in on himself, determined to suffer alone.

Gakushu realized that all of that was his fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the end notes will now be called the "stay woke" section, where little trivia and thoughts will be broadcasted because i'm too shy to actually post them on tumblr.  
>  **today on stay woke:**  
>  does anyone realize that if nagisa and gakushuu interacted more in canon we would have a relationship similar to tododeku (from boku no hero academia)?  
> sweet sweet cinnamon roll x traumatized son of tyrannical dad

**Author's Note:**

> be a fellow trashbag with me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/faceitimanasshole) !

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Welcome To E-Class, Gakushuu-kun!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14740496) by [MorgTheNeko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorgTheNeko/pseuds/MorgTheNeko)




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